Sertrude^Pamow 


THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 


CICELY 


THE 
GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

A  NOVEL 

BY 

GERTRUDE  PAHLOW 


NEW  YORK 

DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 
1914 


COPYRIGHT,  1BU 
By  DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 


TO  E.  P.  W. 

A  book  is  like  a  friend,  and  a  friend  is  like  a  book; 
Each  a  true-heart  lover  for  a  lamp-lit  ingle-nook : 
So  take  from  me  this  book,  and  be  to  me  a  friend 
(O  best  of  true-heart  lovers!)  till  our  book  shall  end. 


2137592 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I       THE    INAUGURATION    OF   A   CAREER 1 

II     THE  DIPLOMAT'S  ENTERING  WEDGE 39 

III  THE  NEW  PUPIL 62 

IV  MORE  DIPLOMACY 82 

V    Ax  ADVENTURE  IN  ARCADY 109 

VI     ARCADY  MISLAID 130 

VII  ANOTHER  BLOW  ON  THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE  .     .     .  156 

VIII     AN  IDYL  IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS 193 

IX    THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD 223 

X    WAIF'S  ASYLUM 231 

XI     THE  UNKNOWN  LAND 239 

XII     A  CLUE  FOR  A  BLINDFOLD  ARIADNE 246 

XIII  LIGHT  IN  THE  LABYRINTH 263 

XIV  THE  SEASON  OF  GROWING 274 

XV  "JOURNEYS  END—"                                                        .  290 


THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 


THE 
GILDED  CHRYSALIS 


THE    INAUGURATION    OF    A    CAREER 

THE  train  pulled  slowly,  through  an  avenue  of  yellow- 
ing autumn  leaves,  up  the  grade  towards  the  little  town; 
and  Roger  Ford,  leaning  forward  in  his  chair,  laid  his 
hand  eagerly  on  his  bride's  arm. 

"  We're  almost  there,  Cicely !  "  he  said.  "  Almost 
home !  " 

"Really?"  exclaimed  Cicely.  "Hallelujah!  I 
thought  it  would  never  happen." 

"  So  did  I,"  said  Roger,  drawing  a  deep  breath.  "  I've 
thought  of  it, —  and  despaired  of  it, —  so  long !  And 
now  you're  here.  You  in  Cheltenham,  sweetheart !  " 

"How  do  I  fit  the  picture?"  asked  Cicely,  cocking 
her  head  at  him. 

"  Perfectly,  of  course,"  said  Roger.  "  You'd  fit  any 
picture."  He  looked  at  her  with  shining  eyes  of  love 
and  pride,  and  then,  craning  his  neck,  peered  along  the 
train's  path  towards  the  place  that  was  the  other  mistress 
of  his  heart.  For  the  first  time  a  faint  misgiving,  that 

1 


2        THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

perhaps  had  been  lingering  beneath  the  surface  of  his 
mind,  smote  him  consciously.  "  You  fit  it  perfectly,  of 
course,"  he  reiterated  firmly;  and  looked  again  at  her 
with  dawning  doubt.  He  had  always  known  that  his 
wife  was  ineffable,  unique  among  mortals;  but  now  that 
they  neared  the  grave  old  academic  town  it  suddenly 
seemed  that  there  might  be  more  of  a  difference  between 
her  and  the  other  faculty  wives  than  could  be  accounted 
for  by  her  celestial  attributes  alone.  Was  it  all  in  her 
bright  beauty  and  perfect  Parisian  clothes  ?  A  puzzled 
wrinkle  came  between  his  brows. 

"  Chel-tenham !  "  called  a  raucous  voice  at  the  end  of 
the  car,  as  the  train  came  to  a  standstill. 

"  Chel-tenham !  "  repeated  Cicely  gaily.  "  Out  with 
you,  Roger !  Boots,  saddle,  to  horse  and  away !  "  And 
without  waiting  for  him  to  rise,  she  sped  to  the  door 
and  ran  down  the  steps  to  the  platform.  "  That's  the 
way  to  hurry  big  slow  men !  "  she  said,  as  he  caught  up 
with  her, — "  run,  and  they'll  run  after  you ;  it's  inevitable, 
it's  the  Fourth  Law  of  Motion.  Where  are  the  taxis  ?  " 

"Oh,  taxis!"  said  Roger,  laughing.  "Why,  a  taxi 
that  found  itself  in  Cheltenham  would  explode  with  the 
shock.  You've  come  down  to  the  bed  rock  of  low  living 
and  high  thinking,  dear." 

"  But  —  no  taxis,  Roger !  "  exclaimed  Cicely.  "  Why, 
I  always  thought  this  was  the  country  above  all  others 
for  comfort.  In  Paris  people  used  to  say,  '  Oh,  the 
Americans — .'they  are  not  mortals,  they  are  million- 
aires! '  I'm  sure  whenever  we  came  back  to  New  York 
there  were  taxis  enough." 

Roger  laughed  again,  half-heartedly.     "  Cheltenham's 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER     3 

not  New  York,  as  you'll  very  soon  find!  And  college 
people  aren't  millionaires, —  you  know  I've  told  you  that 
until  you  said  you  were  tired  of  hearing  it.  You've  lived 
in  such  a  different  world  from  this,  sweetheart,  you  come 
here  almost  a  foreigner.  I  hope  you're  not  going  to 
find  the  naturalizing  too  hard."  He  gazed  at  her  anx- 
iously, his  blue  eyes  and  sober,  square-chinned  face  full 
of  a  boyish  wistfulness  that  was  oddly  appealing  in  so 
big  a  man. 

"  Well,"  said  Cicely,  with  a  little  frowning  shrug, 
"  wishing  won't  save  shoe-leather.  If  there  aren't  any 
decent  cabs  we  must  walk.  Give  the  bags  to  one  of 
these  moth-eaten  charioteers,  Roger,  and  take  me  away 
before  their  eyes  pop  out.  I  had  no  idea  America  was 
like  this." 

Roger  consigned  the  luggage  to  one  of  the  hover- 
ing cabmen,  and  guided  his  wife  from  the  platform 
towards  the  main  street  of  the  village.  His  face  was 
clouded  and  distressed.  In  all  his  home-comings  it  had 
never  occurred  to  him  to  picture  Cheltenham  other  than 
what  it  was ;  his  own  instincts  were  of  an  almost  ascetic 
simplicity,  which  the  staid  academic  standards  more  than 
satisfied,  and  he  was  constitutionally  unimaginative  about 
material  things.  He  tried,  in  silence,  to  readjust  his 
viewpoint  to  that  of  his  luxuriously  nurtured  bride,  and 
failed  entirely.  Cicely  too  went  silently,  the  little  wrin- 
kle of  puzzled  annoyance  still  on  her  forehead.  The 
rusty  cabmen  stared  after  them  with  candid  curiosity  and 
admiration. 

The  village  of  Cheltenham  strayed  up  from  the  station 
through  a  fringe  of  little  shabby  shops,  past  a  section 


4        THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

of  peaceful,  pretty  residence  streets,  to  the  great  cen- 
tral enclosure  of  the  university  which  was  its  reason  for 
being.  This  was  a  golden  day  of  late  September,  with 
the  air  washed  and  clear,  the  leaves  motionless,  the  grass 
still  thick  and  strongly  green.  The  shops  were  stirring 
from  their  summer  sleep  into  a  state  of  fussy  bustle,  men 
in  shirt-sleeves  tugging  violently  at  boxes,  men  in  more 
stately  raiment  agitatedly  placing  college-room  furniture 
in  winning  arrangements  outside  the  doorways.  Along 
the  sidewalks  the  college  boys  strolled  noisily,  shouting 
joyful  greetings  from  group  to  group.  Lawns  were  being 
trimmed  and  raked,  houses  set  wide  to  the  sun;  all  the 
cheerful  small  excitement  of  the  opening  of  college  was 
under  way,  and  Cheltenham  was  alive. 

Up  through  the  town  went  Roger  and  Cicely, —  she, 
in  her  pearl-grey  frock  with  the  long  gloves  and  little 
gaiters  to  match,  and  her  scarlet  hat  and  ruff,  like  a 
bright  bird-of-Paradise  in  a  dun-coloured  aviary;  his 
sober  blue  serge  and  lack  of  adornment  more  in  keeping 
than  at  any  time  since  the  wedding-day, —  and  at  the 
end  of  the  main  street  the  campus  confronted  them  in 
the  splendour  of  the  faultless  morning.  Roger  paused 
before  the  great  carved  gate  to  let  his  first  love  break 
gloriously  upon  the  vision  of  his  second,  and  Cicely, 
peering  in,  gave  an  exclamation.  The  place  showed  in 
a  bravery  and  beauty  even  greater  than  common;  the 
green-piled  velvet  of  the  lawns  was  flooded  with  gold, 
the  dark  brick  of  the  old-time  buildings,  gleaming  be- 
tween the  clusters  of  uprushing  ivy,  had  a  sombre 
preciousness  as  of  porphyry;  the  newer  halls  stood  solid 
and  majestic  in  the  warm  light  that  yellowed  their  grey 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER     5 

stone,  and  deepened  the  shadows  under  their  rich  carv- 
ing. About  the  tall  tower  in  the  centre  pigeons  wheeled 
and  circled  with  low  cries,  and  across  the  grass  knots  of 
boys,  arms  around  shoulders  in  the  joy  of  reunion,  strayed 
singing.  It  was  a  picture  both  stately  and  exquisite, 
sumptuous  with  the  splendour  of  intelligent  costliness, 
and  charming  with  the  charm  of  intimate  human  things. 

The  wrinkle  vanished  from  Cicely's  forehead. 
"  There !  "  she  exclaimed  triumphantly.  "  I  knew 
America  couldn't  be  so  different !  Why,  this  is  beauti- 
ful; it's  the  most  beautiful  university  I've  ever  seen. 
It's  a  little  like  Oxford  and  a  little  like  Cambridge,  and 
rather  nicer  than  either." 

"  You  like  it !  "  said  Roger.  He  turned  to  her  a  trans- 
figured face;  like  many  big,  untalkative  men,  he  had  be- 
neath his  outward  armour  of  reserve  a  depth  and  intensity 
of  emotion  that,  once  liberated,  broke  through  with  as- 
tonishing force.  "  You  don't  know  how  happy  that 
makes  me,  sweetheart !  " 

"  I  love  it,"  said  Cicely  decidedly.  "  I'm  always  going 
to  live  in  Cheltenham.  What's  that  exquisite  monastery- 
looking  building,  with  the  cloister  in  the  middle  ?  " 

"  That's  the  senior  dormitory,"  said  Roger.  "  Bully, 
isn't  it?  All  the  underclassmen  look  up  to  it  like  a  sort 
of  heaven.  Jove,  how  I  loved  that  place!  The  first 
night  I  got  in  I  was  too  happy  to  sleep." 

Cicely  flashed  at  him,  in  a  swift,  sweet  glance,  the  half- 
jealous,  half-maternal  tenderness  of  a  woman  towards 
the  youth  of  her  lover.  "  I  wish  I'd  seen  you,  darling 
boy,"  she  murmured.  Then,  with  a  swift  reversion  to 
her  everyday  tone,  "  Who  lives  in  those  ducky  little  rooms 


6        THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

at  the  base  of  the  tower  ?     One  of  the  dons  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  that's  an  institution  of  Cheltenham's  own, —  one 
of  our  finest,"  explained  Roger  eagerly.  "  The  janitor 
of  the  tower  lives  there;  it's  one  of  the  jobs  reserved  for 
fellows  who  are  working  their  way  through,  and  they 
give  him  those  rooms  so  his  life  shan't  be  robbed  of 
beauty.  Isn't  that  fine?  " 

"  Fine?  "  repeated  Cicely,  frowning.  "  I  think  it's 
silly.  What  an  idea,  to  put  a  scrubby  janitor  in  dirty 
overalls  into  those  charming  rooms !  And  who  lives  in 
that  sumptuous  Gothic  chapel, —  the  charwomen,  I  sup- 
pose?" 

"  You  narrow-minded  aristocrat !  it's  about  time  you 
came  home !  "  said  Roger,  laughing.  "  That's  the  de- 
bating-hall;  nothing  lives  there  but  the  college  spirit." 
He  hesitated  a  moment,  looking  around  the  dear  en- 
closure with  eyes  a  little  dulled  by  disappointment. 
"  Perhaps  we'd  better  postpone  the  rest  of  college,"  he 
suggested.  "  Don't  you  want  to  see  where  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Roger  Endicott  Ford  live?" 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  cried  Cicely.  "  I've  been  wild  to  see  it 
ever  since  there  was  such  a  place;  and  now  I  want  to 
more  than  ever,  since  I  find  Cheltenham  so  beautiful. 
Come,  let's  hurry;  marchons!  " 

Roger    brightened    again.     "  Yes,    let's    hurry ! "    he 
echoed    eagerly.     "This    way;    it    isn't    far.     Cicely  — 
think  of  it  —  we're  going  home !  " 

Cicely  flashed  her  swift  smile  at  him,  and  they  fell 
into  rapid  step.  Roger,  too  elated  and  excited  for 
speech,  hurried  her  faster  and  faster;  across  the  main 
thoroughfare,  up  a  side  avenue,  and  around  a  corner  they 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER     7 

went;  and  then  came  to  a  sudden  stop  in  a  narrow  by- 
street. Before  them  was  a  little  old  house  of  red  brick, 
square  and  low,  with  small  white-framed  windows,  and 
two  worn  stone  steps  leading  up  to  a  green  door.  Twin 
box-trees  stood  sentinel  on  opposite  sides  of  the  little 
yard,  and  marigolds,  with  round  cheery  faces,  bordered 
the  narrow  brick  path.  It  was  very  neat,  very  quaint, 
and  very  humble. 

"  There !  "  said  Roger,  with  a  gesture  of  triumph. 

"  This  —  you  don't  mean  this  is  it?  "  exclaimed  Cicely, 
in  a  tone  from  which  astonishment  had  wiped  all  expres- 
sion. 

"  This  is  it !  "  answered  Roger,  glowing.  "  Our  own 
home ;  our  very  own,  dearest !  " 

Cicely  caught  her  breath.  "  Our  —  home !  "  she  re- 
peated; and  stood  staring. 

Like  most  American  girls  of  her  class,  Cicely  had  been 
well  and  conscientiously  trained  to  be  a  debutante.  Na- 
ture had  begun  the  noble  work  by  making  her  very,  very 
lovely;  and  Art  had  ably  seconded  by  teaching  her  to 
speak  fluently  about  nothing  in  four  languages,  to  dance 
charmingly,  and  to  dress  with  the  utmost  expensiveness 
consistent  with  good  taste.  Orphaned  in  her  early  girl- 
hood, she  had  been  taken  into  the  home  of  her  uncle 
the  Ambassador  to  France,  and  there,  under  the  able 
supervision  of  the  Ambassadress,  had  laid  the  glossy 
finish  of  a  woman  of  the  world  on  the  raw  material  of 
a  young  girl's  ignorance.  Then,  having  achieved  the  end 
for  which  she  had  been  created  and  shaped  by  making 
a  successful  debut,  she  had  so  far  forgotten  herself  as  to 
fall  headlong  in  love  without  any  consideration  of  expedi- 


8        THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

ency:  and  now  she  was  marching  blithely  into  surround- 
ings different  from  any  she  had  ever  known,  and  respon- 
sibilities which  her  imagination  had  never  been  trained 
to  conceive,  to  display  in  real  life  a  real  character  of 
which  she  was  herself  completely  ignorant.  The  mental 
processes  of  the  parents  and  guardians  who  provide  such 
armour  for  the  battle  may  possibly  be  understood  by  an 
all-wise  Providence,  though  the  matter  is  open  to  doubt. 
It  is  true  that  the  Ambassador  had  had  a  moment  of  mis- 
giving, in  which  he  had  suggested  to  his  wife  that  Cicely's 
upbringing  had  perhaps  hardly  fitted  her  for  usefulness 
in  the  sphere  she  was  to  occupy:  but  his  wife  (who  was 
busy  with  the  launching  of  three  plain  daughters,  and 
extremely  glad  to  have  her  beautiful  niece  out  of  the 
way),  had  reminded  him  that  Cicely  had  had  every  pos- 
sible advantage,  exactly  the  same  training  as  their  own 
girls,  and  one  of  the  handsomest  trousseaux  of  the  year; 
and  was  therefore  ready  for  anything. 

So  Cicely,  equipped  for  life  with  every  possible  ad- 
vantage, stood  and  gazed  at  the  little  house  that  was 
her  future  home,  and  shivered. 

As  for  Roger,  he  was  aflame  with  pride  and  happiness. 
To  own  a  house  at  all  is  a  deal  of  a  feat  for  academic 
men ;  and  his  American-trained  eyes  were  blinded  by  long 
habit  to  the  discrepancy  between  the  lodging  of  our  uni- 
versities and  the  lodging  of  the  men  who  give  them  life. 
This  fruit  of  his  toil  and  his  dreams  seemed  to  him  a 
very  fine  affair.  He  had  equipped  and  arranged  it  him- 
self,—  with  a  little  connivance  from  Mrs.  Davidson,  the 
wife  of  his  chief, —  at  the  cost  of  infinite  thought,  in- 
finite pains,  and  much  more  money  than  he  could  afford. 


IXAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER     9 

Xow  had  come  the  crowning  moment,  and  he  was  present- 
ing his  labour  of  love  to  Cicely. 

"  How  do  you  like  it,  sweetheart? "  he  asked  her 
radiantly. 

"  Why,  it's  —  it's — "  began  Cicely;  but  she  was  very 
young  and  very  candid,  and  the  words  caught  in  her 
throat  and  trailed  off  into  silence. 

Roger  turned  and  looked  at  her,  and  the  exultation  was 
struck  out  of  his  face  as  if  by  a  blow.  Was  this  the 
glorious  homecoming  he  had  pictured  so  many  times? 
She  had  averted  her  eyes  from  the  little  humble  house, 
and  stood  looking  at  the  ground;  she  said  nothing,  but 
her  lips  trembled  a  little  with  dismay.  A  pang  of  heart- 
sickness  rose  like  a  sob  within  him.  He  could  not  speak. 

"  Let's  go  in,"  said  Cicely,  in  a  constrained  voice ;  and 
she  went  up  the  little  steps  and  stood  aside  for  Roger 
to  unlock  the  door. 

They  crossed  the  threshold  in  heavy  silence,  and,  stand- 
ing in  the  little  panelled  hall,  looked  about  them.  To  un- 
prejudiced  eyes  the  place  was  a  pleasant  cottage,  with 
a  touch  of  austere  charm;  the  rooms  were  square  and 
low,  softly  coloured,  furnished  a  little  barely  with  good 
mahogany;  the  modest  rugs  and  draperies  were  quietly 
harmonious,  and  bright  brass  andirons  winked  on  the 
empty  hearths.  But  Cicely  thought  of  the  tapestried 
chatelet  that  had  been  her  idea  of  love-in-a-cottage ;  and 
Roger  thought  of  his  months  of  votive  .work  and  radiant 
dreams :  and  neither  spoke  for  a  long  minute. 

"  So  we  are  to  live  here,"  said  Cicely  at  last. 

"  Yes,"  said  Roger  huskily.     "  I'm  sorry,  dearest." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Cicely,  "  we  couldn't  exchange  it  for 


10      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

cuother.  I  suppose  all  those  papers  we  signed  mean  that 
we  have  to  keep  it." 

"  I'm  afraid  so,"  said  Roger.  "I  —  I  didn't  know, 
Cicely  —  I've  always  seen  you  in  such  a  different  world 
from  this  —  I  never  realized  that  you  would  bring  your 
own  world  with  you  when  you  came." 

"  Well,"  said  Cicely,  stifling  a  sigh,  "  we  must  make 
the  best  of  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  Roger,  smothering  a  great  sigh  in  his 
turn,  "we  must  just  make  the  best  of  it."  He  looked 
around  miserably  on  his  little  despised  Paradise.  "  I 
never  understood  how  much  I  was  asking  of  you,  dear." 

"  I  suppose  you  couldn't  help  it,"  said  Cicely.  She 
gave  him  her  hand  kindly,  and  climbed  dispiritedly  up 
the  little  twisting  stair. 

§ 

"  Cicely !  "  called  Roger,  in  the  hall,  an  hour  later. 
"Where  are  you,  dearest?  Kitty's  here." 

Cicely  came  to  the  top  of  the  stairs,  in  a  coral-pink 
negligee  that  made  her  look  like  a  rosy  sea-shell. 
"Who's  Hitty?"  she  asked,  leaning  over  the  banister. 
"  I'm  frightfully  busy." 

"  She's  the  woman  I  told  you  about,"  said  Roger,  his 
eyes  lighting  at  the  lovely  sight  of  her, — "  the  cook,  or 
maid,  or  whatever  you  call  her." 

"  Oh,  a  servant !  "  exclaimed  Cicely.  "  Thank  good- 
ness !  Send  her  up,  Roger." 

Roger  hesitated.  "If  you  don't  mind,  dearest,  I  think 
you'd  better  come  down,"  he  said.  "  She  seems  to  find 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER     11 

a  lot  to  do;  she  began  to  work  in  the  kitchen  almost  be- 
fore she  got  her  hat  off." 

Cicely  lifted  her  eyebrows.  "  But  I  have  more  to  do 
myself  than  I  ever  had  in  my  life,  Roger !  "  she  said. 
"  I'm  unpacking  all  my  clothes.  What  can  she  want  with 
me  down  there?  " 

"  She  wants  to  see  you  about  meals,"  said  Roger.  "  I 
hate  to  bother  you,  dear,  but  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to 
speak  to  her.  And  will  you  have  luncheon  at  one  o'clock 
sharp,  please?  I'm  going  over  to  the  laboratory  for  the 
rest  of  the  morning,  and  I  have  a  department  meeting  at 
two." 

"  Very  well,"  answered  Cicely.  She  accepted,  with- 
out returning,  the  kiss  that  he  ran  up  to  give  her,  and 
stood  looking  after  him  as  he  closed  the  outer  door. 
"  Roger  seems  to  take  a  good  deal  for  granted !  "  she 
said  to  herself.  "  Apparently  I'm  to  be  all  the  upper 
servants  rolled  into  one,  and  he  doesn't  object  in  the 
least.  I  had  no  idea  that  having  an  establishment  of 
your  own  meant  worrying  and  slaving  all  the  time. 
Roger  has  very  odd  ideas."  Frowning,  she  trailed  her 
rosy  draperies  slowly  down  the  stairs  and  across  the  little 
dining-room,  and  opened  the  kitchen  door. 

"Mis'  Ford,  I  s'pose!"  exclaimed  a  cheerful  voice; 
and  an  angular  woman  who  was  splashing  energetically 
at  the  sink  turned  a  ruddy  face  of  greeting  towards  her. 
"You  excuse  my  not  shakin'  hands,  wun't  ye?  I'm 
takin'  what  my  cousin  Ellen  calls  the  dishwater  mani- 
cure. These  new  dishes  looked  as  if  they'd  ben  packed 
in  pig-straw.  How  are  ye, —  pretty  hearty?  " 


12      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Cicely  stood  in  the  doorway  and  gazed,  too  astonished 
at  first  to  speak.  In  truth  Hitty  was  as  odd  a  seneschal 
as  could  well  have  been  chosen  for  a  bride  fresh  from  the 
great  world;  she  belonged  to  a  type  of  servant  to  be 
found  only  in  New  England,  and  there,  nowadays,  in 
none  but  the  remotest  parts.  Roger  had  stumbled  upon 
her  during  a  fishing  trip  to  Maine,  and,  judging  her 
ability  wholly  by  her  kindliness,  had  bespoken  her  future 
services  without  reflection.  Shrewd,  voluble,  good-na- 
tured; as  likely  herself  to  be  a  daughter  of  the  Mayflower 
as  her  mistress,  and  totally  unaware  of  any  social  differ- 
ence; innocent  of  the  conventions,  and  fully  equipped 
only  in  cleanliness  and  sociability, —  certainly  the  am- 
bassadorial domestic  circle  had  held  nothing  like  her. 
But  Cicely  had,  beneath  her  trained  conventionality,  a 
vein  of  gay  independence  all  her  own,  which  cropped 
out  now  and  then  to  free  her  from  the  standards  of  her 
world;  moreover,  she  hated  depression,  and  was  thankful 
for  any  aid  in  escaping  it.  An  appreciative  sparkle 
lighted  suddenly  in  her  eyes,  and  her  spirits  rose. 

"I'm  extremely  hearty,  thank  you!"  she  answered. 
"  I  hope  you  are  the  same." 

"  Well,  middlin',"  said  Hitty.  "  I'm  kind  o'  dislocated 
jest  now,  on  account  o'  travellin'  all  night  in  one  o' 
them  sleepin'-cars.  I  got  the  Professor's  telegram  at 
supper-time,  an'  took  the  ten  o'clock  from  Bangor;  the 
folks  was  most  all  abed  when  I  got  on  board,  an'  I 
turned  right  in  too, —  an'  my  land,  if  I  didn't  find  out 
this  mornin'  that  I'd  ben  sleepin'  the  hull  night  all  soul 
alone  with  sixteen  men!  Wa'n't  that  a  great  note  for 
a  respectable  woman?  However,  this  life's  a  vale  o' 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER     13 

tears  anyway.  Now,  what  was  you  calc'latin'  to  hev 
for  lunch?  —  the  Professor  says  ye  hev  dinner  at  sup- 
per-time." 

"  Why,  let  me  think,"  said  Cicely.  "  We  might  have 
puree  of  asparagus, —  and  creamed  sweetbreads,  and 
petits  pois  sautes, —  and  —  and  squab  on  toast,  and  en- 
dive salad, —  and  fruit,  and  coffee.  There's  no  need  for 
fuss,  with  just  us  two." 

"Good  Father  Abraham!"  ejaculated  Hitty.  "Was 
you  expectin'  to  git  all  them  fixin's  out  o'  this  kitchin?  " 

"  Why,  yes.     Where  else?  "  said  Cicely. 

"  Ye  couldn't  do  it,  Mis'  Ford,"  stated  Hitty  con- 
vincingly, "  if  you  was  to  set  an'  wait  for  yore  lunch 
till  the  Day  o'  Jedgment.  An'  ye  couldn't  then,  un- 
less the  angel  Gabr'el  'd  roll  up  his  sleeves  an'  help 
out." 

"  Dear  me !  "  said  Cicely,  twinkling,  "  I'd  rather  not 
wait  that  long.  What  do  you  think  of  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  was  thinkin',"  responded  Hitty,  "  o'  fish 
hash." 

"  Fish  hash !  "  repeated  Cicely  faintly. 

"  We  could  do  it  easy,"  explained  Hitty  reasonably. 
"  This  boneless  codfish  soaks  quick,  an'  I  c'n  set  the 
potatoes  right  on  now.  It'll  be  all  ready,  you'll,  see;  I 
ain't  one  to  raise  hopes  an'  not  carry  'em  out." 

"  But,  Hitty,"  protested  Cicely,  "  I  couldn't  eat  fish 
hash.  I  simply  couldn't." 

"  Well,  I  couldn't  fix  them  pure  rays  o'  sparrowgrass 
you  was  tellin'  about,"  returned  Hitty  firmly,  "  an'  that's 
flat." 

"  Then  I'll  try  again,"  said  Cicely.     "  We  might  have 


14      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

plain  consomme, —  and  chicken  timbales, —  and  arti- 
chokes, sauce  tartare, — " 

"  Now,  Mis'  Ford,"  interrupted  Hitty,  with  great  im- 
pressiveness,  "  you  put  me  in  mind  o'  what  I  said  to 
Ephr'm  Hopkins'  wife  (her  that  was  a  Green),  when 
she  set  up  housekeepin'.  She  come  from  Bangor,  chock- 
full  o'  city  ways,  an'  she  wanted  mince  pie  an'  riz  dough- 
nuts an'  fried  oysters  an'  sech  every  day  in  the  week. 
An'  I  says  to  her,  '  Mis'  Hopkins,'  I  says,  '  if  you  want 
to  live  in  the  Waldorf  Astory,  then  you'd  ought  to  'a* 
brought  the  chief  o'  the  Waldorf  Astory  along;  but  1 
wa'n't  born  no  French  chief,  nor  even  an  Injun  one,'  I 
says,  '  an'  I  don't  much  believe  I  c'n  change  my  nation- 
ality for  four  dollars  a  week,'  s'  I." 

Cicely  burst  into  merry  laughter.  "  Brava !  "  she 
said.  "  I'm  sure  your  conversation  is  better  than  any- 
body's cooking.  Let's  not  worry  about  food  now;  come 
upstairs  and  help  me  unpack,  and  entertain  me." 

Hitty  looked  both  gratified  and  doubtful;  though  she 
knew  that  food  was  her  first  concern,  her  social  instincts 
were  strong.  She  hesitated  a  moment,  then,  observing 
cheerfully,  "  Well,  anythin'  to  oblige,"  she  followed  her 
mistress  from  the  room,  stepping  gingerly  to  avoid  the 
long  rosy  train. 

The  entire  upper  floor  was  littered  with  trunks,  rang- 
ing in  size  from  huge  many-trayed  affairs  that  had  re- 
duced three  draymen  to  the  profane  silence  of  exhaus- 
tion, to  small  square  hat-trunks  that  perched  about  upon 
the  furniture  like  unwieldy  birds.  Cicely  had  skimmed 
the  cream  from  each,  and  piled  the  results  helter-skelter 
in  rainbow  confusion,  until  the  little  house  looked  like  a 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    15 

costumer's  opening-day.  She  led  the  way  into  the 
chamber  she  had  chosen  for  her  own. 

"  Now/'  she  said,  "  I'll  sort  the  things  out,  and  you 
put  them  away.  Here's  a  house-gown;  that  will  go  in 
this  closet." 

"  My  land  o'  liberty !  "  exclaimed  Hitty,  holding  out 
the  shimmering,  exquisitely-embroidered  satin  in  thumbs 
and  forefingers.  "  Ain't  that  han'some  ?  You  never  got 
that  in  no  Cheltenham  store,  did  ye  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  new  to  the  advantages  of  Cheltenham,"  said 
Cicely.  "  How  does  this  evening  gown  strike  you, —  in 
your  land  of  liberty,  again  ?  "  She  held  up  a  wonder  of 
silver-shot  gauze,  the  colour  of  aquamarines,  the  sheen 
of  moonshine. 

"My  grief!"  ejaculated  Hitty,  staring.  "It  looks 
like  a  piece  o'  soapy  water.  Now  when  was  you  calc'- 
latin'  to  wear  that?  " 

"  Why,  next  winter,  to  parties,"  said  Cicely,  tossing 
it  on  a  chair. 

"  Next  winter!  "  repeated  Hitty.  "  H'm !  Ye  wun't 
sweat  none.  Look  a-here,  Mis'  Ford,  what  d'ye  mean 
by  throwin'  them  beautiful  dresses  around  like  that? 
This  furnitur'  ain't  ben  dusted  in  a  dog's  age." 

"Hasn't  it?"  asked  Cicely.  "Dust  it,  then,  Hitty, 
will  you  please?  " 

Hitty  looked  dubious.  "  I  do'  know,  Mis'  Ford,"  she 
demurred.  "  General  housework's  all  I  hired  out  for, 
without  no  trimmin's." 

"  But  who  else  is  there  to  do  it?  "  asked  Cicely  cheer- 
fully. "  We  have  to  be  dusted,  don't  we  ?  —  and  I'm 
sure  there  are  no  trimmings  on  this  furniture !  " 


16      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Hitty  debated  a  moment;  but  her  sturdy  nature  was 
already  succumbing  to  the  compelling  charm  that  made 
mankind  combine  to  spoil  Cicely,  rid  she  waived  her 
point.  "  That's  true  enough !  "  she  replied,  setting  to 
work  with  her  apron  in  default  of  other  resources.  "  It's 
good  an'  strong,  this  furnitur'  is,  but  it  ain't  what  ye'd 
call  dressy.  I  wish't  you  c'd  see  my  cousin's  house,  down 
to  Callis !  She's  got  new  red  plush  parlour  suits  right 
through,  an'  lace-edged  tidies,  an'  the  biggest  chromos 
you  ever  see, —  Alpion  scenes,  twelve  of  'em.  An'  she's 
got  her  front  parlour  all  petitioned  off  with  parterres, 
as  she  calls  'em;  an'  a  pink  shell  pattern  round  the  zinc 
where  the  stove  sets;  an'  two  big  fat  divines,  one  at  each 
end." 

"  Divines  ?  "  repeated  Cicely.  "  What  does  she  have 
them  in  her  parlour  for, —  to  hold  prayers  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no'm,"  said  Hitty,  working  rapidly.  "  To  set 
on." 

Cicely  looked  mystified.  "  It  seems  hardly  a  respect- 
ful usage  for  the  cloth,"  she  suggested. 

"  Oh,  the  cloth's  dreadful  strong,"  said  Hitty.  "  I 
guess  you  don't  understand.  They're  really  jest  sofies, 
but  divines  is  the  stylish  name  for  'em." 

"  Oh,  I  see !  "  said  Cicely,  with  a  smothered  chuckle. 
"I'm  rather  behind  the  times.  Tell  me  more,  Hitty; 
haven't  you  some  other  relations  ?  " 

"  Land,  yes,"  said  Hitty.  "  I  got  folks, —  own  folks 
and  law- folks, —  till  the  cows  come  home;  but  this  room's 
most  dusted,  an'  I  guess  I  better  go  down  an'  start  the 
lunch  next  thing." 

"  Oh,   never   mind   the   luncheon   now !  "    said    Cicely. 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    17 

"  We  don't  know  what  we're  going  to  have,  yet.  Take 
some  of  these  evening  dresses  and  hang  them  in  the  next 
room, —  Mr.  Ford's  room, —  and  then  tell  me  about  the 
rest  of  your  family." 

Hitty  yielded  with  a  certain  stiff  amenableness,  and 
approached  the  many-coloured  mound.  "  My  sakes  an' 
sorrers  !  "  she  ejaculated.  "  Look  at  that  white-of-egg- 
an'-lemon-j  elly  one !  An'  that  spider-web  trimmed 
with  lightnin'-bugs !  My  grief !  My  good  land  o' 
Goshen !  " 

Cicely  laughed.  "  I  shan't  dare  to  show  you  any  more, 
for  fear  the  next  will  reach  your  solar  plexus !  "  she  said. 
"  You  like  pretty  things,  don't  you,  Hitty  ?  " 

"I  do;  an'  I'm  used  to  'em  considerable  han'some, 
though  not  so  thin  as  these,"  said  Hitty,  gathering  up 
an  armful  and  turning  to  the  adjoining  room.  "  My 
cousin  Mirandy,  that  lived  next  door  to  us,  hed  a  black 
silk  an'  a  red  poplin  an'  a  blue  challis  all  to  once,  be- 
sides her  every-day  clo'es  an'  calikers.  My,  that  woman 
hed  it  easy!  Her  husband,  he  hed  a  steady  job  at  fifty 
dollars  a  month,  an'  his  house  besides,  an'  he  give  her 
everythin'  money  c'd  buy, —  a  melodeon,  an'  agate-iron 
ware  in  the  kitchin,  an'  runnin'  water  upstairs  'n'  down; 
an'  all  the  fam'ly  that  was  dead  was  buried  right  near 
the  house,  with  the  han'somest  tombstuns  you  ever  see. 
An'  then  she  got  cold  comin'  from  a  sociable,  an'  took 
tuberc'lars,  an'  died;  an'  didn't  it  seem  a  shame  to  go 
an'  leave  all  that  ?  " 

"  It  did  indeed !  "  agreed  Cicely.  "  We  never  know 
when  we're  well  off,  do  we?  " 

"  No'm;  we're  all  poor  sinners,"  said  Hitty  cheerfully. 


"  My  land  alive.  Mis'  Ford,  did  you  say  the  Professor 
was  goin'  to  sleep  in  this  yeller  room?  It's  dusty 's  a 
miller,  an'  the  bed  ain't  made." 

"  No,  and  neither  is  mine,  under  the  mountain  of 
clothes,"  said  Cicely.  "  Make  them,  Hitty,  please ;  and 
dust  in  there;  but  don't  stop  talking." 

"  I  ain't  no  chambermaid,"  objected  Hitty  half- 
heartedly. "  An'  I've  got  to  go  down  in  a  minute  an' 
git  that  lunch  started." 

"  Oh,  bother  the  lunch ! "  said  Cicely  lightly. 
"  There's  lots  of  time.  Make  the  beds  first,  Hitty, —  you 
know  yourself  we  can't  sleep  in  unmade  beds, —  and 
stay  where  I  can  hear  you  talk.  Did  your  cousin 
Mirandy  have  any  children  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  did  so,"  responded  Hitty ;  and,  touched  in 
her  weakest  point,  and  unable  to  resist  the  temptation, 
she  began  without  further  protest  to  search  for  bed- 
clothes. "  Yes,  she  hed  four.  Her  oldest  son, —  Jabez 
his  name  was, —  he  raised  pigs  down  Augusty  way,  an 
he  took  an'  married  a  crazy  man's  daughter.  Her  father 
he  was  crazy,  an'  his  father  he  was  crazy,  an'  way  back 
to  the  great-gran'ther,  he  wa'n't  all  there.  So  they  all 
s'posed  Philomeny, —  that  was  her  name,  Philomeny 
Crockett, —  'ud  go  crazy  on  him  too  before  she  got  done 
with  it.  Well,  sure  'nough,  things  went  along  about 
so-so  till  they'd  ben  married  two-three  years,  an'  hed  a 
couple  o'  children;  an'  then  one  day,  while  one  o'  the 
neighbour  women  was  settin'  in  the  kitchin  with  her, 
Philomeny  she  got  up  an'  begun  pilin'  wood  on  the  fire, 
an'  she  says,  '  I'm  a-goin'  to  chunk  up  the  fire  good  an' 
hot,'  she  says,  '  an'  broil  the  baby  for  supper,'  s'  she. 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    19 

Well,  d'ye  know  that  woman  s'picioned  quick's  a  wink 
that  Philomeny  wa'n't  right,  an'  she  run  out  an'  hollered 
for  help;  an'  in  twenty  minutes  it  took  three  men  to 
hold  her,  an'  she  was  pullin'  hair  out  o'  them  in  chunks. 
Jabez,  he  all'us  said  that  a  little  more  an'  she'd  'a'  sot 
the  house  on  fire,  let  alone  the  baby,  if  that  woman 
hedn't  'a'  ben  so  smart;  an'  he  hedn't  a  mite  of  in- 
surance neither.  There,  I  thought  I'd  find  some  sheets 
in  the  bottom  o'  one  o'  these  trunks." 

"  You  have  great  intuitions,"  said  Cicely,  "  and  so  had 
the  neighbour  woman.  What  happened  to  Philomeny  ?  " 

"  Why,  they  took  her  to  the  'sylum  at  Augusty,"  said 
Hitty,  laying  aside  the  sheets  and  beginning  a  hunt  for 
blankets,  "  an'  Jabez  got  his  sister  Maude  to  keep  house 
for  him,  an'  they  got  along  fine  for  a  spell;  Maude  she 
all'us  was  a  better  cook  'n  Philomeny.  Then  Maude  she 
got  married  to  a  Methodist  minister  (an'  hed  to  jump 
some  after  that,  /  tell  ye)  ;  and  Philomeny  got  better, 
an'  come  home.  Everybody  was  so  anxious  to  encour- 
age her  they  never  s'much  as  said  the  word  crazy  to  her; 
but  twa'n't  no  use;  in  a  month  she  took  as  crazy's  a 
loon.  Jabez  was  the  one  that  s'picioned  her  that  time; 
an'  the  way  he  come  to  do  it  was  that  she  got  a  apurn- 
full  o'  rocks  an'  come  for  him,  a-sayin'  that  she  was 
David  an'  he  was  Goliath,  an'  she  was  a-goin'  to  sling- 
shot him  to  kingdom-come.  Now  where  under  the  can- 
opy are  them  blankets  ?  " 

"  In  a  box,  somewhere,"  said  Cicely.  "  She  wasn't 
very  tactful,  was  she  ?  Did  she  get  him  ?  " 

"  No'm,  she  was  a  poor  shot,"  said  Hitty  depre- 
catingly.  "  Seems  's  if  — " 


20      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Hello  there !  "  called  a  voice  from  below.  "  Where's 
everybody?  " 

"My  sakes  an'  sorrers !  "  ejaculated  Hitty,  "if  there 
ain't  the  Professor !  "  She  dropped  her  armful  with  a 
horrified  gasp,  and  sped  to  the  back  stairs. 

"  Why,  Roger !  "  cried  Cicely,  scrambling  up  and  go- 
ing into  the  hall,  "  what  are  you  doing  here  at  this  time 
of  day  ?  " 

"  I  know  I'm  late/'  said  Roger.  "  I'm  sorry,  dearest, 
but  there  was  so  much  to  do  that  I  couldn't  get  away.  I 
won't  keep  your  luncheon  waiting  a  minute  longer." 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  worry  about  the  luncheon !  "  said 
Cicely,  laughing.  "  There  isn't  any,  yet!  " 

Roger  looked  blank.  "  No  luncheon  ?  "  he  said. 
"  Why,  I  thought  I  asked  for  it  at  one." 

"  So  you  did,"  assented  Cicely,  "  but  I  took  Hitty  up 
to  unpack,  and  she  amused  me  so  well  I  forgot  the  time. 
I  never  saw  such  a  droll  person;  I  think  I'll  change  her 
function  and  retain  her  for  general  conversation." 

"  That's  not  very  filling !  "  said  Roger.  Hunger,  fa- 
tigue and  hurry  lent  sharpness  to  his  voice.  "  It  may 
satisfy  you,  Cicely,  but  I  need  food." 

"  Well,  just  be  patient  for  a  minute,"  said  Cicely. 
"  I'll  tell  her  to  get  luncheon  right  away." 

"  I  can't  wait,"  said  Roger.  "  I  have  to  be  back  at 
college  at  two." 

"  Well  then,"  said  Cicely,  with  the  air  of  a  person 
humouring  an  unreasonable  child,  "  come  up  and  help 
me  dress,  and  we'll  go  to  an  hotel.  Will  that  do?  " 

"  No,"  said  Roger,  "  I  can't  wait  for  that  either.     I'll 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    21 

have  to  start  now,  and  get  a  bite  on  the  way.  I  don't 
want  to  seem  critical,  dear,  but  we  must  have  punctual 
meals." 

"  Really,  Roger,"  said  Cicely,  impatiently  indignant  at 
the  suggestion  of  reproach  in  his  tone,  "  I'm  astonished 
at  you !  I  don't  understand  any  one's  making  such  a  fuss 
over  such  a  very  small  thing." 

"  It's  not  small,"  said  Roger  warmly;  "it's  work  and 
health  and  everything  important.  I've  got  to  eat  if  I'm 
going  to  be  any  good,  and  I've  got  to  be  punctual  if  I 
want  to  hold  my  job.  You  won't  let  it  happen  again, 
will  you?  Good-bye."  He  was  gone  as  he  spoke,  with- 
out the  usual  kiss. 

Cicely  bit  her  red  underlip  as  she  looked  after  him. 
"  Who  would  have  believed  that  Roger  had  such  a  tem- 
per! "  she  exclaimed  to  herself.  "  What  a  way  to  talk! 
—  and  I  haven't  had  any  luncheon  either,  and  I've 
worked  all  the  morning  harder  than  I  ever  did  in  my 
life.  And  such  a  house  —  and  such  a  servant  —  Really, 
it's  rather  too  much !  "  She  tapped  sharply  on  the  stair- 
rail,  indignant  knuckles  clenched.  "  Aunt  Lucille  was 
right,"  she  said,  aloud;  "you  don't  know  a  man  until 
vou've  married  him." 


"  Mis'  Ford !  "  screamed  Hitty  in  piercing  accents, 
from  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  "  Here's  a  caller  for  ye !  " 

Cicely  jumped  np  with  alacrity  from  her  tiresome 
labour  with  the  trunks,  and  hurried  to  the  mirror;  but, 
though  she  was  delighted  with  the  tidings,  she_  felt; 


22      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

obliged  to  take  exception  to  the  manner  of  their  delivery. 
"  Then  have  the  goodness,  Hitty,"  she  said  severely, 
"  to  come  up  and  tell  me  so." 

"  My  land,  Mis'  Ford,"  said  Hitty,  ingenuously  as- 
tonished, "  I'm  takin'  them  cakes  out  o'  the  oven !  " 

"  If  you  were  snatching  brands  from  the  burning," 
returned  Cicely,  patting  her  beautiful  hair  into  order,  "  I 
should  expect  you  to  respect  the  customs  of  civilization." 

"That's  one  thing,"  argued  Hitty;  "if  a  soul's  lost 
a'ready,  I  don't  s'pose  it  hurts  it  none  to  frizzle  a  little 
longer;  but  lemme  tell  ye,  things  that's  goin'  to  be  et 
are  different.  Ther's  many  a  soul's  salvation  ben  en- 
dangered by  the  hash  comin'  on  to  the  table  scorched." 

Cicely,  her  reflection  satisfying  even  her  critical  eyes, 
abandoned  her  attempt  at  domestic  discipline,  and  ran 
laughing  down  the  stairs.  "  Well,  after  you've  insured 
our  future  welfare  by  rescuing  the  cakes,"  she  said, 
"  will  you  be  the  means  of  our  present  salvation  by 
bringing  in  the  tea-tray,  as  I  told  you?  "  And,  all  sun- 
shine at  this  relief  from  work  and  depression,  she  flitted 
into  the  room  where  her  visitor  waited. 

"  You  may  have  gathered  that  you  were  announced !  " 
she  said, — "  but  my  domesticated  savage  didn't  mention 
your  name.  I  am  Cicely  Ford." 

A  tall,  plain,  noble-looking  woman,  with  a  kind  face 
and  unconsidered  raiment,  rose  from  the  sofa,  smiling. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Ford,"  she  said,  "  I  am  very  happy 
to  see  you  at  last.  I've  heard  so  much  of  you  that  I 
feel  like  an  old  friend;  I  am  Mrs.  Davidson." 

Cicely  had  measured  her  visitor  with  an  appraising 
glance,  condemned  her  clothes,  approved  her  grey,  wavy 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    23 

hair,  and  distrusted  her  manner  of  possessive  friendship, 
before  they  finished  shaking  hands.  "  High-minded,  but 
preachy,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  What  an  awful  hat ! 
How  could  Roger  say  she  was  beautiful  ?  " 

"  It's  very  good  of  you  to  come,  Mrs.  Davidson,"  she 
said  politely,  seating  herself  beside  her  new  acquaint- 
ance. "  Roger  has  spoken  of  you  often." 

"  Not  so  often,  I'm  sure,  as  I  have  thought  of  him, — 
and  of  you,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson  warmly.  "  I  have  so 
looked  forward  to  your  home-coming;  to-day  you  have 
never  been  out  of  my  mind.  What  did  you  say  when 
you  first  saw  your  dear  little  house?  " 

The  intimate  friendly  tone  jarred  upon  Cicely,  and 
she  answered  perversely.  "  Why,  I  don't  remember 
what  I  said;  but  I  thought  it  was  a  labourer's  cottage, — 
it  looked  so  neat  and  self-respecting,  exactly  as  if  there 
were  cabbage  cooking  inside  it!  " 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Davidson,  shocked  and  pained. 
"  Oh,  I  hope  you  didn't  tell  Roger !  He  worked  and 
planned  and  sacrificed  so,  his  very  heart  was  bound  up 
in  this  house.  I  never  saw  a  nature  of  such  rapt  devo- 
tion as  his, —  especially  since  he  has  had  you." 

Cicely  flushed  and  stiffened.  What  right  had  this  in- 
trusive stranger  to  instruct  her  about  her  own  husband? 
and  what  had  any  one  but  herself  to  do  with  her  opinion 
of  her  house?  A  twinge  of  conscience  lent  edge  to  her 
resentment,  and  her  distrust  of  Mrs.  Davidson  promptly 
crystallised  into  antagonism.  She  changed  the  subject 
brusquely. 

"  Has  the  social  season  of  Cheltenham  opened  yet?  " 
she  asked  abruptly. 


24      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Mrs.  Davidson,  swallowing  her  earnestness  with  an 
effort,  accepted  the  digression.  "  It  opens  officially  on 
the  fifth  of  October,"  she  replied.  "  That's  the  Presi- 
dent's Reception.  After  that  the  real  Cheltenham  life 
begins." 

"  Tell  me  about  it,"  said  Cicely.  "  I  want  to  know 
what  my  duties  will  be,  and  how  I  can  be  useful  to 
Roger." 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  that!"  said  Mrs. 
Davidson,  her  mobile  face  lighting  again.  "  You  can 
do  him  tremendous  service;  I  suppose  there's  no  life  in 
which  men's  wives  play  a  greater  part  than  this.  You 
know,"  she  warmed  to  her  subject,  "we're  all  under- 
paid, and  we  all  like  to  live  nicely,  and  we're  expected 
to  travel,  and  to  have  expensive  tastes;  and  to  harmonize 
all  that  and  come  out  even  calls  for  a  deal  of  managing 
on  the  wife's  part.  It's  very  hard  to  keep  the  home 
gracious  and  beautiful,  and  still  pay  the  bills.  And  then 
of  course  there's  Roger's  work:  informing  yourself  about 
what  he's  doing,  and  following  his  investigations  from 
day  to  day  — " 

Cicely  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  Oh,  it's  no  use  talk- 
ing to  me  about  that !  "  she  interrupted.  "  We've  begun 
already  to  live  like  artisans;  I  defy  anybody  to  reduce 
our  expenses  a  penny  a  year.  And  if  Roger  had  inter- 
esting work,  like  languages,  or  pictures, —  but  science 
smells  so  horribly!  and  I  know  he  wouldn't  want  me  to 
get  my  hands  all  green  and  blue.  What  I  want  to  know 
about  is  the  important  part, —  whom  to  cultivate,  and 
whom  not  to  bother  with,  and  whom  to  give  the  pas  to, 
and  all  that." 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    25 

Mrs.  Davidson  looked  a  little  dashed.  "  My  dear 
Mrs.  Ford,"  she  said,  "  I'm  sure  you're  on  the  wrong 
track.  It  isn't  diplomacy  we  need  in  this  life,  it's  just 
kindness.  We're  all  quite  simple  people  here,  and  all 
friends  together.  The  pleasure  of  helping  our  husbands 
in  their  great  work,  the  privilege  of  offering  a  bit  of 
home  atmosphere  and  a  bit  of  stimulus  to  the  boys  as 
they  keep  passing  through, —  those  are  the  things  that 
make  us  fortunate  women !  and  they  have  nothing  to  do 
with  policy." 

Cicely  sat  up  very  straight.  "  My  aunt,  who  knows  a 
great  deal  of  the  world,"  she  said  decisively,  "  told  me 
that  the  first  thing  one  should  do  in  a  new  place  was  to 
find  out  the  people  who  were  worth  considering,  and 
then  consider  them.  I  shall  certainly  respect  her  ad- 
vice.—  This  woman  is  a  preaching  idiot !  "  she  added 
angrily  to  herself;  and  going  to  the  door,  she  called,  in 
a  low  voice  of  controlled  irritation,  "  Hitty !  where  is 
tea?  " 

"  Comin' !  "  returned  Hitty,  appearing  in  the  hall  with 
the  tray.  "  I  ain't  a  nigger  jinny  out  o'  the  'Rabian 
Nights,  Mis'  Ford,  to  come  hoppin'  through  the  floor  in 
a  smudge  o'  smoke  with  a  taible  ready  sot.  Takes  time 
to  git  a  full-sized  meal,  'specially  when  ther's  another 
marchin'  along  behind  it  like  Onward  Christian  Sol- 
diers." 

"  You  may  set  it  here,"  said  Cicely  impatiently. 
"Have  you  brought  cream?  Very  well,  this  is  all  we 
need  now." 

"  That's  lucky,"  remarked  Hitty  grimly.  "  Gittin'  a 
lot  at  afternoon  tea  means  hevin'  to  holler  for  more  at 


26      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

dinner."  She  set  the  tray  on  the  little  table  with  a 
clatter,  and  stalked  out. 

"  You  seem  to  be  ministered  to  by  an  original,"  ob- 
served Mrs.  Davidson,  profiting  by  the  diversion  to  re- 
gain her  patience  and  begin  again. 

"  She's  the  most  extraordinary  creature,  without  ex- 
ception, that  ever  drew  breath,"  affirmed  Cicely,  pouring 
the  tea.  "  As  a  conversationalist  she's  worth  her  weight 
in  gold;  but  she  must  have  gotten  her  household  training 
in  the  Fiji  Islands.  What  slabs  of  sandwiches!  And 
she  hasn't  made  rolls,  either,  as  I  told  her  to." 

"  Perhaps  she  hasn't  found  time,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Davidson.  "  There's  a  great  deal  to  do,  even  in  a  little 
house,  for  one  pair  of  hands." 

"  But  she  doesn't  have  one  single  thing  beside  the 
housework !  "  said  Cicely.  "  Roger  brushes  my  clothes, 
and  I  do  my  hair  myself.  She's  hardly  even  helped  with 
the  unpacking.  No,  she's  just  plain  incompetent." 

Mrs.  Davidson  sighed.  She  had  very  strongly  the 
admonitory  instinct  that  Cicely  had  detected,  and  much 
excellent  advice  burned  on  the  tip  of  her  tongue,  but, 
though  she  heartily  desired  to  smooth  the  way  for  this 
beautiful  spoiled  child,  she  perceived  that  it  would  be 
wasted.  After  a  moment's  silence,  she  tried  another 
line. 

"  Airs.  Ford,"  she  said, —  wooing  her  hostess,  as  a 
generous  plain  woman  will  sometimes  woo  a  beautiful 
exacting  one, — "  since  you're  interested  in  officials  and 
dignitaries,  I'll  tell  you  a  secret.  Do  you  know  that 
you  and  your  young  husband  are  likely  to  have  experi- 
ence in  that  direction  before  long?  " 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    27 

"  Why,  no !  "  said  Cicely,  brightening.  "  Roger's 
only  an  assistant  professor,  isn't  he?  " 

"  Yes,  but  a  most  unusually  gifted  assistant  profes- 
sor," said  Mrs.  Davidson ;  "  and  when  we  go  abroad  next 
semester,  his  chief  (that's  my  husband,  you  know),  is 
going  to  put  him  in  charge  of  the  department." 

"  Oh,  how  nice !  "  exclaimed  Cicely.  "  I'm  so  glad 
you  told  me !  " 

"  Why,  so  am  I,  then !  "  said  the  older  woman,  pleased 
in  Cicely's  pleasure.  "  And  I'll  tell  you  something  more, 
—  though  I  know  I'm  rather  premature, — "  she  added, 
impulsively  confidential,  "  if  my  husband  retires  next 
June,  as  he  thinks  of  doing,  the  appointment  may  — 
perhaps  —  prove  to  be  permanent." 

Cicely  clapped   her   hands.     "  Splendid !  "   she   cried. 
'  Head  of  the  Department  of  Science  of  Cheltenham 
University!  '     Will  it  be  on  his  stationery?  " 

Mrs.  Davidson  laughed.  "  That's  going  rather  fast !  " 
she  said.  "  My  husband's  retirement  is  by  no  means 
settled;  and  even  when  it  is,  Roger  won't  be  installed 
without  a  good  deal  of  opposition.  There  are  older  men 
in  the  department,  and  men  of  wider  reputation,  who  will 
think  they  have  a  prior  claim." 

Cicely  knitted  her  brows,  looking  vigilant  and  eager. 
"  Who  are  they  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Well,  let  me  see,"  reflected  Mrs.  Davidson.  "  Of 
course  most  of  ours  are  big-minded  men,  who  admire 
Roger  and  would  be  glad  to  see  him  succeed;  but  Dr. 
Reynolds  and  Dr.  Kaltenborn, —  yes,  and  Dr.  Simms, — 
would  certainly  oppose  him  strongly." 

"  Reynolds  —  Kaltenborn  —  Simms,"  repeated  Cicely, 


28      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

memorizing  carefully.  "  Those  are  the  ones  for  me  to 
look  after,  then.  I'll  manage  them!  I  wasn't  bred  a 
diplomat  for  nothing." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Ford,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Davidson  in  dis- 
may, laying  her  hand  on  Cicely's,  "  I  hope  you'll  do 
nothing  of  the  kind!  Truly,  it  all  depends  on  Roger 
himself.  I  did  wrong  to  mention  names;  if  his  big  ex- 
periments turn  out  well,  and  if  he  gets  the  laboratory  he 
is  hoping  for,  nothing  can  hinder  him.  I'm  a  good 
feminist,  and  the  last  one  to  underestimate  the  wife's 
part,  but  it  doesn't  consist  in  interfering.  The  best  help 
you  can  give  him  is  to  encourage  him  in  his  work,  and 
keep  him  free  from  worry  at  home." 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Davidson !  "  said  Cicely  coldly,  with- 
drawing her  hand,  "  I  really  think  I  shall  have  to  judge 
for  myself  about  my  husband's  affairs.  If  I  can  help 
him,  I  must  do  it  along  the  lines  that  seem  best  to  me." 

Mrs.  Davidson,  hurt  by  the  rebuff,  rose.  "  Then  I 
can  only  hope,"  she  said  slowly,  "  that  your  plans  will 
not  miscarry.  Good-bye;  I  am  very  glad  to  have  found 
you." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Cicely,  without  warmth.  She 
shook  hands  with  her  visitor,  accompanied  her  punc- 
tilious!}' to  the  drawing-room  door,  and  watched  her 
departure  with  a  frown.  "  Tiresome  thing !  "  she  said 
to  herself.  "  If  she  thinks  she's  going  to  manage  me, 
she's  mistaken.  I  will  make  Roger's  career,  and  I'll 
make  it  my  own  way:  I'll  show  her." 

§ 
The  back  door  of  the  hall  banged,  and  Roger,  home 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    29 

from  college  by  a  short-cut,  entered  hurrying.  Cicely 
was  still  in  the  doorway  of  the  little  drawing-room,  and 
their  eyes  met  eagerly  and  shamefully.  Roger  spoke 
first,  holding  out  his  arms. 

"  I'm  sorry  I  was  cross  this  noon,"  he  said.  "  I 
haven't  had  a  minute's  peace  since.  Will  you  forgive 
me,  darling?  " 

Cicely  had  meant  to  preserve  her  displeasure  consider- 
ably longer;  but  her  lonely  afternoon,  the  distraction  of 
her  new  ambition,  and  most  of  all  the  potent  power  of 
his  dear  unhappy  face  and  hungry  arms,  conquered  her 
resentment.  She  went  to  him,  and  slipped  her  hands 
into  his. 

"  Yes,  I'll  forgive  you,"  she  said.  "  But  I  hope  you're 
really  sorry;  for  you  were  very  bad,  you  know." 

"  I  was  a  brute,"  said  Roger,  folding  her  tightly,  "  and 
you  are  an  angel.  I'll  never  do  so  again." 

"  Then  that's  settled,"  said  Cicely,  kissing  him  lightly 
in  the  cleft  of  his  chin,  and  slipping  away;  her  caresses 
were  always  fleeting.  "  We  have  a  horrible,  savage  tea 
in  here;  come  and  get  some." 

"  Can't  stop  now,"  said  Roger.  "  I've  got  to  mow 
the  lawn.  Jove,  it  seems  good  to  be  at  work  again!  I 
wasn't  cut  out  for  a  loafer." 

"  No,  you  were  made  to  dig  and  delve  like  a  sober 
old  grunting  Badger,"  said  Cicely,  restored  to  cheerful- 
ness. "  I'll  come  with  you,  and  garden:  won't  that  be 
fun !  We'll  be  like  the  court  of  Marie  Antoinette,  play- 
ing at  shepherds  and  shepherdesses." 

"  There  won't  be  much  play  about  my  mowing,  I  can 
tell  you,"  said  Roger,  taking  off  his  coat.  "  That  grass 


30      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

hasn't  been  cut  for  a  month.     And  just  what  is  your 
notion  of  gardening?  " 

"  Oh,  digging,  and  pruning,  and  watering,  and  cul- 
tivating," said  Cicely,  running  ahead  of  him  into  the 
little  enclosure  behind  the  house.  "  See  the  brave  red 
roses, —  so  late,  and  so  lonely!  I'll  begin  with  them. — 
Oo !  "  as  a  thorn  caught  her  delicate  chiffon  frock  and 
tore  a  jagged  rent. 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  Roger,  surveying  her  with  ador- 
ing amusement.  "  You  look  about  as  fit  for  gardening 
as  the  Venus  de  Milo."  He  disappeared  into  the  house, 
and  emerged  with  an  armful  of  miscellaneous  trappings, 
—  a  huge  gingham  apron  of  Kitty's,  overshoes,  gloves, 
and  an  old  cap  of  his  own.  "  On  with  'em !  "  he  said. 
"  This  is  the  new  uniform  of  the  Cheltenham  Street- 
Cleaners'  League." 

Cicely,  laughing  gleefully,  decked  herself  in  the  ill- 
assorted  garments,  and  pirouetted  before  him,  light  as  a 
leaf  in  spite  of  the  flapping  overshoes.  "  Subject  for 
Raphael !  "  she  said,  wrinkling  her  nose  at  him  impishly. 
"  St.  Cecilia  Ministering  to  the  Majestic  Forces  of  Na- 
ture !  " 

"  St.    Cecilia    wouldn't    own    you    for    a    forty-second 
cousin,"  said  Roger,  enchanted.     "  When  you  look  like 
that, —  you    little    witch, —  you    ought    to    be    called  — 
he  paused,  then,  in  a  flight  of  fancy  unusual  with  him, 
finished,  "  Pixie !  " 

"  Just  listen  to  the  Badger !  "  cried  Cicely.  "  Just 
hear  the  grave  old  grunter  turning  poet !  Roger  —  the 
staid  old  Codger  —  the  grunting  old  Bodger  —  calls  me 
Pixie  —  the  tricksy  —  the  friksy !  "  She  danced  up  to 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    31 

him,  snapping  her  fingers  in  his  face,  and  danced  away 
again. 

"  You  adorable  imp !  "  exclaimed  Roger,  catching  her 
in  his  arms  in  the  shelter  of  the  lilac-bushes.  "  You 
sweet  monkey  !  —  Sweet,  sweet,  sweet !  "  he  murmured 
over  her  fresh  lips.  "  What  makes  you  so  sweet?  Why 
did  such  a  sweet  imp  marry  a  stupid  stick-in-the-mud 
like  me?  " 

"  To  pull  you  out,  of  course !  "  said  Cicely ;  and  her 
mind  reverted  at  once  to  her  clash  with  Mrs.  Davidson. 
"  Roger!  Am  I  a  help  to  you,  or  am  I  not?  " 

"  WThy,  of  course,"  said  Roger  promptly,  "  you're  the 
greatest  help  in  the  world.  Kiss  me." 

"Certainly  I  am!"  said  Cicely.  "And  I'll  be  a 
greater  one;  you'll  see.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you 
were  going  to  be  head  of  your  department?  " 

"  Because  I'm  not,"  said  Roger.  "  A  good  many 
miles  of  water  will  run  under  the  bridges  before  any- 
thing like  that  happens.  If  dear  old  Davy  resigns 
(which  heaven  forfend),  they'll  choose  a  man  who 
amounts  to  something.  I  say,  kiss  me." 

"  They'll  choose  you,"  said  Cicely  with  determination, 
"  or  I'll  know  the  reason  why." 

Roger  laughed.  "  Unfortunately,  you  aren't  the  one 
to  do  the  choosing!  I'm  very  much  obliged  for  your 
good  wishes,  sweet,  but  I'm  afraid  you  haven't  anything 
to  do  with  it." 

Cicely  drew  away  from  him  in  displeasure.  "  I 
don't  know  who  has,  if  I  haven't,"  she  said  coldly. 
"  Aren't  there  rivals  to  be  gotten  out  of  the  way?  Isn't 
there  a  laboratory  to  be  obtained?  " 


32      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Now  look  here ! "  said  Roger,  growing  serious. 
"  Don't  you  get  any  political  bee  in  your  little  bonnet. 
If  I'm  to  make  good  professionally,  I've  got  to  do  it  on 
my  own  merits:  if  I'm  a  better  man  than  the  other  pos- 
sibilities, I'll  get  the  job,  and  if  I'm  not  I  won't.  And 
as  for  the  laboratory,  the  less  said  about  that  the  better. 
It  depends  on  the  whim  of  a  fat  nouvelle  riche  whose 
husband  has  made  a  fortune  in  cough-drops,  and  who 
wants  to  get  into  society  by  giving  a  million  to  educa- 
tion; she  knows  the  merits  of  the  case,  and  how  much 
we  need  the  laboratory, —  and  I  hope  to  heaven  she'll 
give  it  to  us !  but  there's  nothing  to  be  done.  I  won't  win 
it  by  truckling.  So  you  keep  your  fingers  out  of  the 
pie,  girlie." 

Cicely  moved  away,  and,  kneeling  by  the  rose-bushes, 
began  to  break  off  twigs  in  offended  silence.  "  He  talks 
exactly  like  that  woman !  "  she  said  to  herself  indig- 
nantly. 

Roger  too  moved  away,  and,  going  to  the  little  shed  at 
the  back  of  the  yard,  dragged  forth  the  clanking  lawn- 
mower.  Half-way  across  the  grass  he  stopped  to  ask 
a  question. 

"  Who  told  you  about  this  head-of-the-department  no- 
tion ?  "  he  queried. 

"  Mrs.  Davidson,"  answered  Cicely,  without  turning 
her  head. 

"  Oh,  has  she  been  here?  "  exclaimed  Roger  eagerly. 
"  Isn't  she  a  jewel?  " 

"  I  don't  know  her  well  enough  to  say,"  replied  Cicely 
coldly. 

"  She's  one  in  a  million,"  averred  Roger.     "  And  I'll 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    33 

tell  you  what,  dear,  she's  the  person  to  advise  you  about 
your  responsibilities.  What  she  doesn't  know  about 
Cheltenham  life  isn't  worth  knowing.  And  I'm  very 
sure  she  would  tell  you  not  to  '  play  politics.'  " 

Cicely  made  no  answer.  A  prick  of  jealousy  at  this 
evident  accord  mingled  with  her  resentment  against  Mrs. 
Davidson,  and  her  morning  mood  of  dissatisfaction  and 
displeasure  returned  upon  her.  Roger,  aware  that  some- 
thing was  wrong,  looked  at  her  anxiously;  and  through 
his  anxiety  also  returned  the  morning's  depression  and 
disappointment. 

"  Come  with  me,  dear,"  he  said,  fighting  against  the 
growing  feeling  of  estrangement.  "  I've  got  to  get  to 
work." 

"  I'm  working  here,  thank  you,"  answered  Cicely, 
busily  continuing  her  futile  labour. 

"  But  I'm  going  to  mow  the  front  lawn,  and  I  don't 
want  to  be  all  alone,"  coaxed  Roger.  "  Come  with 
me." 

"  Why  should  I  ?  "  asked  Cicely,  without  moving. 

"  Why,  so  we  can  be  together,"  said  Roger.  "  Hus- 
bands and  wives  work  together,  don't  they?  " 

Cicely  rose  slowly,  and  joined  him.  "  I  want  to  work 
with  you,  Roger,"  she  said,  "  if  you'll  only  be  reason- 
able." 

"  I  want  to  be  reasonable,  Cicely,"  answered  Roger 
earnestly.  "  I  want  to  make  you  happy,  and  give  you 
everything  in  my  power.  I  only  feel  that  in  profes- 
sional matters  I  have  to  stand  or  fall  on  my  own  feet, 
not  yours." 

Cicely  stiffened  her  slender  neck,  and  held  her  chin  a 


34      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

little  higher.  "  Aunt  Lucille  said/'  she  remarked,  "  that 
the  first  qualification  for  a  wife  was  to  be  a  good  strate- 
gist. And  she  certainly  knows." 

"  I  suppose  she  does,  about  her  own  line/'  said  Roger 
patiently.  "  But  college  life  isn't  diplomacy;  and  I  tell 
you,  sweetheart,  I  don't  want  to  succeed  by  intriguing." 

Cicely's  cheeks  flushed  with  mounting  anger.  "  Very 
well/'  she  said.  "  You  and  Mrs.  Davidson  seem  to  be 
agreed.  Have  your  own  way."  She  seized  the  rake  he 
had  leaned  against  the  house,  and,  as  he  began  in  de- 
pressed silence  to  drive  the  lawn-mower  across  the  little 
front  lawn,  she  followed,  raking  violently.  "  If  Roger 
had  a  grain  of  sense,  or  if  that  woman  hadn't  poisoned 
his  mind,"  she  thought,  "  we  might  really  work  together 
like  this;  he'd  be  the  steady  draught-horse,  plodding 
along  in  front,  and  I'd  come  after  and  put  in  the  fine 
touches.  But  he's  blind;  and  I  don't  care."  She  scat- 
tered the  grass  right  and  left  with  reckless  strokes. 

"  Some  one's  coming  to  see  you,  Cicely !  "  said  Roger 
suddenly,  stopping  his  work  to  indicate  a  large  limousine 
that  was  turning  into  the  little  street.  "  I  suppose  you'll 
want  to  disappear  and  take  off  those  street-cleaner 
duds." 

Perversity  came  at  once  to  the  front  in  Cicely's  mood. 
"  I  don't  see  why  I  should,"  she  said.  "  If  I  have  no 
social  responsibility  about  your  career,  there's  no  need 
for  me  to  care  what  sort  of  appearance  I  make.  I  shall 
do  very  well  as  I  am." 

Roger's  eyes  showed  the  hurt  that  her  tone  gave  him, 
but  he  made  no  comment.  "  Well,  I  don't  believe  I'm 
fit  for  publication,"  he  said.  "  I'll  withdraw  and  get  a 


INAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    35 

coat  on  while  there's  time."  He  disappeared  around  the 
corner  of  the  house. 

Cicely  stood  her  ground.  She  had  never  in  her  life 
made  for  one  minute  the  disreputable  appearance  which 
she  now  chose  to  display  publicly;  but  she  did  not  care 
how  she  looked,  or  what  sort  of  credit  she  reflected  on 
Roger.  She  watched  the  movements  of  the  approaching 
car  with  eyes  recklessly  alight.  "  If  I'm  of  no  use,  I'll 
have  a  little  fun!"  she  thought.  "I'll  make  myself 
felt  somehow  in  this  extraordinary  society !  " 

The  limousine  came  rapidly  down  the  street,  passed 
the  little  red  house,  and  stopped  at  a  yellow  house  far- 
ther down  on  the  other  side.  A  stout,  ornate  dame 
alighted,  dismissed  the  car  with  a  wave  of  a  fat 
hand,  climbed  laboriously  up  the  porch  steps,  and 
rang  the  bell.  Cicely,  losing  interest,  was  about  to  turn 
away;  but  when  the  door  was  opened  and  the  visitor  had 
propounded  a  question,  it  seemed  that  she  had  come  to 
the  wrong  goal;  she  turned  and  stumped  laboriously 
down  again,  and,  as  her  chariot  had  gone  to  the 
end  of  the  street  to  turn  around,  she  was  forced  to 
rectify  her  mistake  on  foot.  With  a  very  bad  grace  she 
started  diagonally  across  towards  the  little  House  of 
Ford.  The  facts  that  the  road  was  muddy  and  that  her 
French-heeled  shoes  obviously  pinched  did  not  tend  to 
increase  her  satisfaction;  and  by  the  time  she  reached 
the  sidewalk  she  was  very  much  out  of  breath  and  out 
of  temper. 

Cicely  watched  with  dancing  eyes;  she  was  in  a  mood 
for  malicious  amusement.  "  Good-afternoon ! "  she 
called  out  sweetly. 


36      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

The  visitor  surveyed  the  daintily  disreputable  figure 
with  a  glance  in  which  superiority  and  irritation  con- 
tended for  mastery.  "  Does  Mrs. —  Roger  —  Ford  — 
reside  here  ?  "  she  puffed  haughtily. 

"  I  believe  she  does,"  said  Cicely. 

"  Then  go  tell  her/'  commanded  the  stout  lady,  "  that 
I  want  —  to  see  her.  Tell  her  — "  she  paused  impres- 
sively, and  took  a  breath  worthy  of  the  announcement, 
"  Mrs.  Martin  de  Mullen  is  here !  " 

Cicely  hesitated  an  instant,  reflecting;  she  could  not 
decide  whether  it  would  be  more  amusing  to  declare  her- 
self, or  to  continue  on  the  present  footing.  But  the  de- 
lay was  too  much  for  the  visitor's  strained  temper,  and 
she  forced  the  issue. 

"  Come,  hurry  up !  "  she  said  angrily,  the  careful 
finish  disappearing  from  her  voice.  "  I'm  not  used  to 
bein'  kept  waitin' !  " 

This  decided  Cicely ;  her  eyes  danced  again.  "  Then 
don't  wait  any  longer,"  she  suggested  with  a  charming 
smile. 

"Well,  of  all  the  impudence!"  ejaculated  the  stout 
lady,  glaring.  "  I'll  tell  your  mistress  on  you !  " 

"  Oh,  are  you  going  in  anyway?  "  said  Cicely.  "  I 
wish  you  luck.  But  I'm  afraid  we  don't  want  any." 
She  glanced  deprecatingly  at  the  large  gold  bag  in  her 
visitor's  fat  hand. 

"  You  —  you  outrageous  —  you  —  you  — !  "  gasped 
the  lady;  and,  inarticulate  with  rage,  she  flounced  to  the 
curbstone  and  waved  furiously  at  her  approaching 
chariot. 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  in !  "  said  Cicely,  sweetly 


IXAUGURATION  OF  A  CAREER    37 

surprised.  "  '  None  but  the  brave  can  pay  their  fare,' 
you  know.  Well,  if  you  can't  stop,  good-bye !  I  hope 
it  won't  spoil."  She  waved  her  clumsy  glove  in  a  mock- 
ing farewell  as  the  lady  clambered  pantingly  aboard. 

"Cicely!"  said  Roger,  returning  at  this  juncture. 
"  What  have  you  been  doing?  " 

"  Bearding  a  raging  lion !  "  said  Cicely,  sparkling  with 
glee.  "  I  routed  her,  too !  " 

"  I  see  you  did,"  said  Roger.  He  hesitated ;  he  had 
heard  enough  to  be  sorely  distressed  that  a  visitor  to  his 
home  should  be  so  received,  yet  he  did  not  want  to  scold. 
"  Do  —  do  you  think  you  were  exactly  kind?  "  he  asked 
slowly. 

"  Oh,  as  for  that,  she  treated  me  like  the  beasts  that 
perish!"  said  Cicely.  "And  if  I'm  not  of  any  impor- 
tance, it  doesn't  matter  how  I  behave.  You  say  I  can't 
make  you  head  of  the  department  anyway." 

"  Not  at  this  rate,"  said  Roger,  with  a  touch  of  bitter- 
ness. "  That  was  the  giver  of  the  possible  laboratory, — 
the  person  you  were  going  to  wind  around  your  finger." 

Cicely  was  startled,  but  her  mood  of  reckless  indiffer- 
ence sustained  her,  and  she  only  flushed  a  little  more 
brightly.  "  Well,  you  don't  believe  in  truckling !  "  she 
taunted. 

Roger  flushed  too.  "  No,  but  I  believe  in  common 
courtesy,"  he  said. 

At  this  Cicely's  eyes  blazed.  "  If  you  had  had  the 
'  common  courtesy,'  "  she  retorted,  "  to  put  a  little  con- 
fidence in  your  wife,  you  would  be  in  a  different  situa- 
tion at  the  present  moment !  " 

"  I  put  so  much  confidence  in  my  wife,"  said  Roger 


38      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

slowly,  "  that  I  trusted  her  to  be  considerate  and  kind 
whether  there  was  anything  to  be  gained  by  it  or  not.  I 
seem  to  have  been  mistaken." 

An  electric,  pricking  glow,  half  pleasurable,  half  ap- 
palling, ran  along  Cicely's  spine.  She  flashed  an  answer 
white-hot  from  the  thrill  of  it.  "  You  certainly  were, 
if  you  thought  I  would  be  a  door-mat  for  people  you 
don't  consider  me  fit  to  manage !  You  may  imagine  that 
you  and  your  women  aides  can  use  me  to  wipe  your  feet 
on,  but  I  have  other  ideas !  " 

"  Oh  — !  Cicely  — /  "  exclaimed  Roger,  utterly  aghast. 
He  put  out  his  hand  to  catch  her;  but  she  had  marched, 
carnation-cheeked,  past  him  and  into  the  house. 

Inside  the  locked  door  of  her  room,  she  dropped  on  a 
chair  in  the  midst  of  the  gay  confusion,  and  stared  un- 
seeingly  before  her,  with  hands  clenched.  "  It's  an  out- 
rage !  "  she  cried  to  herself.  "  Roger  will  let  that  David- 
son woman  and  that  horrible  fat  bourgeoise  do  anything 
they  please  to  him,  and  he  won't  listen  to  a  word  from 
me!  They  insult  me,  and  he  is  delighted!  He  doesn't 
mind  how  people  treat  me,  so  long  as  they  please  him. — 
Oh  well,  who  cares !  "  She  flung  out  her  hands  in  a 
reckless  gesture.  "I  don't!  I  wish  I  had  some  one  to 
dance  with.  I  won't  sit  here  and  mope  —  I  won't  —  I 
won't  — "  The  hands  fell,  and  suddenly  they  were 
clasped  over  the  delicate  frock  that  hung  on  the  back  of 
the  chair,  and  Cicely's  head  was  upon  them.  "  Oh,  what 
a  day,  what  a  day !  "  she  sobbed.  "  Why  didn't  any  one 
tell  me  that  marriage  was  like  this  ?  " 


II 

THE  DIPLOMAT'S  ENTERING  WEDGE 

ON  the  evening  of  the  President's  reception,  the  eligible 
world  of  Cheltenham  gathered  in  force.  It  was  the 
most  important  formal  event  of  the  year,  when  Greek 
met  Greek  in  best  bib  and  tucker,  newcomers  were  ap- 
praised, old  members  of  the  sacred  circle  took  each 
other's  measure  anew,  and  the  fine  impalpable  bonds  and 
barriers  that  make  up  social  intercourse  were  strength- 
ened. The  scene  held  a  certain  extramundane  splendour, 
devoid  of  glitter,  yet  serenely,  academically  brilliant. 
The  great  stately  rooms,  classically  restrained  in  their 
decoration,  the  imposing  presences  of  the  President  and 
Mrs.  President,  the  combination  of  intellect  with  a 
chastened  worldliness  in  the  appearance  of  the  guests, 
all  combined  to  create  an  atmosphere  not  found  in  the 
entertainments  of  Vanity  Fair, —  the  soothing  and  edi- 
fying aura  of  Learning  in  Evening  Dress. 

Cicely,  aware  that  this  was  her  formal  introduction 
to  Cheltenham  society,  and,  since  her  peace-making  with 
Roger,  both  conscience-stricken  about  her  previous  con- 
duct and  confirmed  in  her  diplomatic  intentions  for  the 
future,  was  sufficiently  impressed  to  be  very  much  on  her 
good  behaviour.  She  wore  a  gown  of  shimmering  white 
and  soft  translucent  green,  in  which  she  looked  like  a 

39 


40      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

lily-of-the-valley,  virginal  and  shining;  and  as  she  en- 
tered the  drawing-room  by  her  husband's  side, —  bright 
head  high,  eyes  wide  and  eager, —  the  sudden  silence  was 
almost  audible  in  its  tribute.  She  heard  it,  and  flushed 
a  little  with  pleasure;  and  Roger  heard  it  too  with  his 
duller  masculine  perceptions,  and  burned  into  sudden 
radiance  with  uncontrollable  pride  and  joy.  Their  ad- 
vance through  the  long  room, —  beautiful  youth  at  its 
beautiful  best, —  was  a  triumphal  progress :  a  buzz  of 
excited  talk  closed  in  behind  them. 

"  Mrs.  Ford,"  said  the  President,  stepping  forward 
from  his  place,  and  bending  his  august  regard  upon 
Cicely  in  a  very  human  manner,  "  we  thought  ourselves 
well  off  when  we  had  your  husband  here  alone;  what 
shall  we  think  now,  when  he  has  brought  us  such  wealth 
as  this  ?  " 

A  saucy  retort  anent  the  doubtful  position  of  wealth 
in  the  scholarly  world  was  on  Cicely's  tongue;  but  she 
had  come  with  a  firm  resolve  to  be  discreet  and  diplo- 
matic, and  would  not  grant  it  egress.  Instead,  demure 
gaze  fixed  on  the  stately  Roman-nosed  countenance  above 
her,  she  answered  with  silent  dimples;  and  in  this  she 
displayed  more  wit  than  if  she  had  uttered  the  cleverest 
retort  in  history,  for  the  President, —  like  many  an- 
other great  man, —  had  less  appreciative  ears  for  other 
people's  eloquence  than  for  his  own. 

"  Well,  if  we  live  up  to  the  obligation  that  your  com- 
ing lays  upon  us,"  said  he,  answering  himself  gallantly, 
"  your  life  in  Cheltenham  will  be  a  bed  of  roses.  You 
will  find  us  appreciative  debtors,  I  promise  you." 

"  Mrs.  Ford,"  said  the  President's  wife,  with  suave 


THE  ENTERING  WEDGE       41 

effusiveness,  "  it  gives  me  -very  great  pleasure  to  open  the 
doors  of  our  little  world  to  you.  I  hoped  to  explain 
some  of  its  mysteries  when  I  called;  I  was  extremely 
sorry  to  miss  you,  as  I  really  desired  to  help  you  get 
properly  started." 

Cicely's  eyes  narrowed  slightly,  appraising  this  semi- 
official patronage.  Mrs.  Staunton,  it  was  easily  seen, 
was  by  nature  a  little  fussy  woman,  made  for  little  fussy 
concerns,  who  had  schooled  herself  to  that  conscious 
poise  and  graciousness  often  seen  in  the  small  wives 
of  great  men,  and  now  acted  her  part  with  a  satisfac- 
tion she  could  not  conceal.  Cicely  had  met  her  type  be- 
fore, and  knew  (with  a  mischievous  longing),  how  easily 
she  could  reduce  the  official  dignity  to  its  native  elements. 
But  she  held  heroically  to  her  resolve  of  discretion,  and 
answered  irreproachably. 

"  You  are  most  kind,"  she  murmured.  "  I  was  deeply 
distressed  to  lose  your  visit.  Thank  you  so  much  for 
asking  me  to  pour  to-night;  I  feel  more  honoured  than  I 
can  tell  you." 

Mrs.  Staunton's  intuition,  quicker  than  her  wit,  per- 
ceived a  slight  flaw  in  the  spirit  of  this  reply.  "  I  al- 
ways ask  the  brides,"  she  said,  with  a  sharp  lifting  of 
her  intricate  blonde  coiffure. 

"  Oh,"  said  Cicely,  hiding  a  twinkle,  "  how  fortunate 
for  me !  " 

"  You  are  going  to  like  us  here  in  Cheltenham,  I 
trust,  Mrs.  Ford?"  inquired  the  President,  turning 
hastily  from  his  greeting  of  Roger. 

Cicely  raised  to  him  those  large  respectful  eyes,  and 
smiled. 


42      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Well,  Ford,  I  think  the  university  is  as  much  to  be 
congratulated  as  you !  "  remarked  the  great  man,  with 
unwonted  geniality.  "  We  are  a  highly  favoured  commu- 
nity." 

"  Not  a  doubt  about  that,  sir !  "  beamed  Roger,  as  he 
returned  Mrs.  Staunton's  limp  handshake  with  an  exuber- 
ant grip.  "  Cheltenham's  the  luckiest  institution  in  the 
country,  and  I'm  its  luckiest  atom."  His  glance  dwelt 
upon  Cicely,  as  they  moved  away  side  by  side,  with  a 
visible  caress. 

"  A  most  delightful  young  lady !  "  pronounced  the 
President,  with  emphasis.  "  As  beautiful  as  she  is 
witty;  a  rare  combination." 

"  She's  too  sure  of  herself !  "  said  his  wife,  vaguely 
dissatisfied.  "  And  I'm  positive  her  hair  has  been 
touched  up ;  that  colour  simply  can't  be  natural." 

Mrs.  Davidson  came  forward  quickly,  beautiful  in  the 
simple  dignity  of  her  low-cut  black  gown.  "  Good  even- 
ing, Mrs.  Ford !  "  she  said,  with  the  same  sincere  cordial- 
ity which  she  had  brought  to  their  last  ill-fated  inter- 
view. "  Good  evening,  Roger.  How  delightful  to  see 
you  together !  Quantities  of  people  want  to  meet  the 
new-comer;  may  I  present  some  of  them?  I'm  sup- 
posed to  be  '  assisting,'  so  they've  brought  their  pleas 
to  me." 

"  I  shall  be  charmed,"  replied  Cicely  sedately. 

"  Then  I'll  start  with  the  department,"  said  Mrs. 
Davidson,  "  as  charity  ought  to  begin  at  home.  First 
of  all  —  where  is  he  ?  —  oh,  here  —  this  is  the  head. 
I'll  let  him  have  you  a  minute,  while  I  collect  the 
others." 


THE  ENTERING  WEDGE        43 

She  moved  away  with  a  smiling  nod,  and  her  place 
at  Cicely's  side  was  taken  by  a  portly,  silver-haired  man, 
with  eyes  framed  in  countless  merry  wrinkles.  Genial- 
ity was  his  first  note,  keenness  of  intellect  his  second, 
and  then,  underlying  both,  a  deep  nobility  that  was  the 
real  fundamental  of  the  chord,  and  that  chimed  with  the 
same  quality  in  his  wife.  Cicely  warmed  to  him  whole- 
heartedly, and  upturned  her  face  to  his  with  an  instant 
lovely  smile. 

"  Let  me !  "  said  Roger  quickly,  "  Cicely,  this  is  Dr. 
Davidson,  my  best  friend  and  greatest  creditor.  Doctor, 
didn't  I  tell  you  I  had  something  of  a  wife  to  show  you?  " 

"  You  did,  my  boy,"  said  Dr.  Davidson,  clapping 
Roger  heartily  on  the  shoulder  with  one  hand,  while  he 
clasped  Cicely's  slender  fingers  with  the  other,  "  and 
it's  lucky  I  had  a  little  preparation !  "  He  laughed  a  big, 
jovial  laugh,  that  deepened  the  wrinkles  around  his  eyes, 
and  gazed  at  Cicely  appreciatively.  "  Well,  Roger, 
your  deserts  are  such  big  ones  that  even  this  isn't  too 
much  for  you.  As  for  you,  my  dear  lady,  I  don't  know 
you  well  enough  to  say  what  you  deserve,  but  from  your 
looks  I  think  you  are  worthy  of  your  husband;  and  I 
can't  go  higher  in  the  complimentary  line  than  that." 

Cicely  gave  him  a  glowing  look  of  pleasure:  freed' 
from  the  subtle  hostility  which  had  made  her  object 
to  the  same  thing  in  his  wife,  she  rejoiced  in  his  evident 
love  of  Roger.  "  No,  you  show  yourself  a  flatterer," 
she  said.  "  I  shall  beware  of  you." 

"  Oh,  come,  doctor !  "  laughed  Roger,  embarrassed  and 
happy.  "  I  never  thought  you'd  horse  me  like  this !  " 

"  And  as  for  the  rest  of  us,"  pursued  the  doctor  cheer- 


fully,  "we're  just  eleemosynaries, —  just  a  plain  bread- 
line. We'll  stand  and  wait  for  the  crumbs.  Look 
around  you  and  see !  "  And  indeed  the  crowding  faces 
about  the  room  were  nearly  all  turned  towards  Cicely 
with  open  admiration,  changing  as  she  glanced  at  them 
into  the  consciously  absent  look  of  people  who  want  to 
prove  to  the  person  they  are  staring  at  that  they  are 
staring  at  some  one  else. 

Cicely,  who  was  inured  to  being  inspected  in  a  far 
less  reserved  manner,  met  the  concentrated  gaze  with- 
out embarrassment.  "  Faculty  parties  look  just  like  or- 
dinary parties,  don't  they?"  she  said, — "almost." 

"  What's  the  difference?  "  asked  Roger,  drawing  her 
out  with  ill-concealed  pride. 

Cicely  hesitated;  privately  she  thought  this  one  rather 
shabby,  but  of  course  such  an  indiscreet  opinion  must 
be  far  from  her  tongue.  "  Well,  there's  a  sort  of  double- 
entente  in  the  atmosphere!  "  she  said  gaily.  "  The  first 
time  I  saw  scholars  in  the  mass,  at  the  opening  exercises 
here,  they  wore  the  appropriate  uniform;  but  now  they 
look  just  like  ordinary  men,  and  it's  confusing,  because 
of  course  they're  not." 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Ford !  "  said  Dr.  Davidson,  quizzically, 
"  I  see  the  effect  of  the  diplomatic  training !  " 

"  Just  watch  me  a  while,"  said  Cicely,  turning  to  him, 
roguishly  confidential,  "  and  you'll  see  more  evidence  of 
it  than  that." 

"  Trust  me!  "  said  he,  "  I'll  watch;  and  I'll  be  ready 
to  dodge  for  shelter  when  the  thunderbolts  begin  to 
fall!" 

"  Here  we  are !  "  announced  Mrs.  Davidson,  reappear- 


THE  ENTERING  WEDGE       45 

ing  with  a  small  army  of  recruits.  "  Mrs.  Ford,  I  want 
you  to  meet  your  colleagues.  Mrs.  Simms  —  and  Dr. 
Simms, —  and  Dr.  Elton,  and  Dr. —  and  Mrs. — 
Reynolds, — "  she  spoke  the  names  with  careful  em- 
phasis, pausing  to  give  space  for  the  greetings,  "  and 
Mrs.  Welsh  —  and  Dr.  Welsh, —  and  Mrs.  Kalten- 
born,  whose  husband  is  still  abroad, —  and  Messrs. 
Grant,  Holmes  and  Peters,  the  Three  Graces." 

Cicely  responded  punctiliously  to  each  introduction, 
taking  curious  note  of  all  her  new  associates,  and  espe- 
cially of  those  with  whom  she  was  already  preoccupied. 
Like  most  of  the  dwellers  in  this  college  world,  they  were 
strongly  marked  personalities,  incapable  of  being 
docketed  in  pigeon-holes;  purpose,  not  chance,  had 
brought  them  together,  and  in  varying  degrees  their  faces 
showed  it.  In  dress  and  bearing  they  displayed  an 
odd  diversity,  some  carefully  conventional  (consciously 
defying  the  world  to  put  them  in  the  class  of  shabby  in- 
tellectuals), and  some  serenely  indifferent  to  unbecoming 
garments  and  passe  modes.  But  in  their  prompt  and 
cordial  welcome  to  the  newcomer  they  were  strikingly 
unanimous ;  for  the  academic  circle,  with  its  strong  clan- 
spirit,  is  everywhere  set  apart  from  less  united  and  less 
altruistic  societies  by  the  bounteousness  of  its  hospitality 
to  the  saved  souls  who  enter  it. 

However,  the  conversation, —  once  the  welcome  had 
been  extended  and  accepted, —  was  very  formal.  Mrs. 
Davidson  had  departed  on  other  errands,  taking  Roger 
with  her;  it  rested  with  Cicely,  the  centre  of  interest, 
to  pitch  the  key;  and  she,  though  pleased  and  a  good 
deal  surprised  by  her  reception,  was  too  full  of  inten- 


tional  diplomacy  to  allow  herself  to  be  natural.  She 
watched  the  people  around  her  closely,  striving  to  dis- 
cern motives  and  emotions ;  and  being  asked  whether  she 
liked  Cheltenham,  responded  that  she  did,  and  inquired 
whether  they  liked  Cheltenham,  and  learned  that  they 
liked  it  greatly;  then,  after  a  short  pause  (during  which 
she  meditated  a  plan  of  attack),  the  question  of  her  ap- 
proval of  Paris  was  raised,  and  she  responded  in  polite 
antiphony  with  a  counter-query  as  to  their  approval  of 
Paris,  and  it  developed  that  all  concerned  esteemed 
Paris  highly.  It  was  irreproachable,  but  not  thrilling. 
Dr.  Davidson  watched  with  an  amused  twinkle  in  his 
shrewd  eyes,  and  the  admiring  bachelors  began  to  hover 
uneasily.  It  was  evident  to  every  one  that  Cicely's  dis- 
creet demeanour  was  but  a  flimsy  disguise;  the  situation 
was  in  a  state  of  suspense,  waiting  for  somebody  to  give 
it  a  push  and  show  its  real  intentions. 

"  This  is  your  first  experience  of  academic  life,  I 
believe,  Mrs.  Ford?  "  politely  asked  a  small  man  at  Cice- 
ly's elbow. 

Cicely's  alert  eyes  considered  him  for  a  second  before 
she  answered.  He  was  Dr.  Simms,  one  of  the  men  whom 
Mrs.  Davidson  had  named  as  Roger's  opponents, —  a 
sandy-haired,  monochrome  person,  with  a  high  voice,  a 
high  forehead,  and  an  inconsiderable  nose.  One  glance 
showed  her  that  little  art  was  needed  to  draw  the  fangs 
displayed  by  his  inoffensive  smile;  the  motive  power  of 
the  opposition  was  clearly  elsewhere. 

"  How  clever  of  you  to  know  that !  "  she  answered, 
with  a  sweetly  ingenuous  manner.  "  Yes,  it's  my  very 
first." 


THE  ENTERING  WEDGE       47 

"  Except  your  own  college  life,  of  course !  "  said  Mrs. 
Simms  sharply.  She  was  a  buxom  woman,  vigorous  and 
capable;  her  glance  was  forcefully  direct,  and  her  speech 
of  a  decisive,  catapult  sort.  Small  hope  of  placating  her 
with  soft  simplicities !  She  was  the  iron  hand  within 
the  innocuous  male  glove. 

"  I  never  went  to  college,"  said  Cicely, —  discarding 
a  little  of  the  sweetness,  but  offering  a  disarming  humil- 
ity. "  I'm  sorry  to  say  I'm  uneducated." 

"  That  need  not  follow !  "  said  Mrs.  Simms.  "  Some 
very  intelligent  women  have  had  no  education  but  what 
they  have  achieved  by  their  own  efforts."  She  looked 
at  Cicely  disapprovingly,  the  consciousness  of  her  own 
M.A.  bristling  out  of  every  fold  of  her  hard  gown. 
"  But  I  must  say  they  are  rare,"  she  added  uncompro- 
misingly. 

Cicely's  eyes  caught  those  of  a  dark  and  pretty  woman 
standing  near  her,  and  struck  a  spark  from  them;  and 
in  the  instant  needed  for  the  amused  interchange  of 
glances,  she  told  herself  that  she  had  found  a  friend. 
This  was  Mrs.  Reynolds,  the  wife  of  the  trenchant  man 
with  the  Van  Dyck  beard, —  a  young,  very  modern 
woman,  remarkably  attractive  in  a  trailing,  lazy  way, 
with  a  face  of  bored  impassivity  and  satirical  eyes.  She 
had  been  studying  Cicely's  gown  and  hair  in  appreciative 
silence,  and  now  she  swept  her  glance  from  that  perfect 
ensemble  to  Mrs.  Simms'  bulging  figure  and  tight  coiffure, 
and  back  to  Cicely  again. 

"  Of  course,"  she  drawled  carelessly,  "  ignorance  has 
its  compensations.  Said  to  be  bliss,  don't  you  know." 

"  Just  as  dirt  is  said  by  unclean  people  to  be  healthy !  " 


48      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

said  Mrs.  Simms.     "  I've  no  patiei,:  e  with  that  sort  of 
nonsense!  " 

"  Ven  I  vas  a  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Kaltenborn, —  a  com- 
fortable Germanic  lady  of  middle  age,  dressed  with  a 
comfortable  Germanic  disregard  for  fashion,  "  dey  used 
to  say  ve  got  to  eat  a  peck  of  dirt  in  our  lifetimes. 
Yes,  so  dey  said  vere  I  came  from." 

"  Oh,"  said  Cicely,  looking  at  her  with  quick  interest, 
"  then  you're  like  me,  half  a  foreigner !  Did  you  al- 
ways live  in  Germany  until  you  came  here  ?  " 

"  Ach,  no !  "  said  Mrs.  Kaltenborn  complacently.  "  In 
Saint  Loo-ey !  " 

"  Mrs.  Kaltenborn  is  a  good  American  citizen,  yoii 
see !  "  said  the  man  with  the  Van  Dyck  beard,  in  a  crisp, 
decisive  voice.  "  She  comes  of  the  solid  Teutonic  stock 
that  gives  new  vigour  to  our  country.  And  her  husband, 
though  imported  from  Berlin,  is  an  excellent  American 
too, —  a  heart-and-soul  American,  a  lesson  to  the  rest  of 
us."  He  put  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  studied 
Cicely  with  his  keen  eyes. 

Cicely  flashed  his  look  back  with  interest.  In  ap- 
pearance he  was  the  most  conventional  of  all  the  men ; 
with  his  ultra-correct  raiment  and  his  faultless  groom- 
ing he  would  have  passed  anywhere  for  a  fastidious  type 
of  man-of-the-world.  But  beneath  the  polished  ex- 
terior, very  near  the  surface,  was  a  restless,  greedy 
ambition,  always  gnawing  at  the  obstacles  in  its  way, 
always  ready  to  pounce.  The  brief  gaze  revealed  each 
to  the  other, —  to  Cicely,  her  husband's  most  unsleep- 
ing enemy;  to  Reynolds,  the  real  fighter  in  the  opposite 
camp.  Their  eyes  clashed  like  weapons;  and  in  Cicely 


THE  ENTERING  WEDGE        49 

a  quick  surge  of  instinctive  hostility  overbore  her  in- 
tended discretion. 

"What  is  your  standard  of  good  citizenship?"  she 
demanded  impetuously.  "  Do  you  judge  by  '  ability  to 
bear  arms  '?  I  am  both  born  here  and  imported, —  I'm 
a  natural  citizen  and  an  adopted  one;  I  ought  to  make 
a  warrior  worth  fighting ! "  Her  challenging  eyes, 
sparkling  with  sudden  excitement,  urged  him  to  throw 
aside  the  mask  and  open  battle  on  the  spot. 

There  was  a  startled  movement  in  the  little  circle. 
The  push  had  been  given,  and  the  delicately  balanced 
situation  was  rolling  briskly  towards  disaster.  Mrs. 
Reynolds  smiled  at  Cicely  with  a  frank  admiration 
touched  with  her  peculiar  satirical  quality;  Mrs.  Welsh, 
a  rather  spiritlessly  feminine  woman,  looked  terrified ; 
Mrs.  Simms  rustled  severely.  Cicely,  suddenly  aware 
of  her  rashness,  stood  silent,  flushed  and  a  little 
daunted;  her  eyes  ran  swiftly  from  face  to  face,  and 
meeting  the  eyes  of  Dr.  Davidson, —  humorous  and 
kind,  yet  with  a  look  of  anxious  disapproval  in  them, 
—  they  fell,  abashed.  She  heard  Dr.  Reynolds  give  a 
sharp  prefatory  cough  as  he  opened  his  lips  to  reply, 
and  all  at  once  she  saw  the  precipice  she  stood  upon, 
and  resolved  to  withdraw  before  it  was  too  late. 

"Why,  I  sound  like  a  jingo!"  she  said,  summoning 
all  her  charm  in  an  infectious  laugh,  "  What  a  goose  I 
am  —  talking  about  battle,  murder  and  sudden  death  in 
this  age  of  Peace  Palaces !  I  hope  I  haven't  alarmed 
you.  I  must  go  now;  I  see  some  one  I  have  to  speak  to. 
I'm  very  glad  to  have  met  you  all, —  please  come  and 
see  me  when  you  can."  And  turning  forthwith,  she 


50      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

hurried  swiftly  away,  leaving  three  of  her  new  acquain- 
tances with  mouths  half-opened  to  reply. 

She  had  not  the  slightest  idea  where  she  was  going, 
but  in  a  moment,  as  she  was  half-way  across  the  room, 
her  eyes  lighted  providentially  upon  Mrs.  Martin  de 
Mullen.  That  lady, —  invited  in  a  rare  academic  con- 
cession to  Mammon, —  sat  enthroned  in  a  high-backed 
Renaissance  arm-chair  excellently  contrived  to  emphasize 
her  plump  plebeian  quality:  her  brief  pursuit  of  Culture 
having  modified  her  first  conception  of  an  evening 
toilette,  she  was  attired  with  chaste  simplicity  in  a  plain 
crimson  velvet  gown  that  made  her  look  like  a  well-boiled 
lobster,  with  a  single  enormous  diamond  hanging  like  a 
millstone  about  her  neck.  Her  round,  marcelled  head 
rested  against  the  carved  chair-back  with  conscious 
queenliness,  and  she  smiled  benignly  and  vacantly  on 
this  gathering  of  distinguished  poverty. 

Cicely  approached  her  with  a  new  access  of  diplomatic 
discretion.  "  I  think  this  is  Mrs.  de  Mullen  ?  "  she  said 
respectfully. 

"  The  same,"  replied  the  lady  regally. 

"  I  have  heard  of  you,  and  wished  to  meet  you," 
proffered  Cicely,  "  and  I  didn't  have  any  one  to  present 
me,  so  I  came  to  present  myself." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Mrs.  de  Mullen  indulgently,  "  and  who 
may  you  be?  Your  face  is  familiar,  but  I  don't, —  so 
to  speak, —  recall  your  name." 

"  I'm  quite  a  stranger,"  said  Cicely  hastily.  "  I'm 
Mrs.  Roger  Ford." 

A  change  came  over  Mrs.  de  Mullen's  complacent  face, 
and  she  looked  sharply  at  her  new  acquaintance.  "  Mrs. 


Roger  Ford,  eh  ?  "  she  said,  with  a  momentary  relapse 
into  naturalness.  "  Is  that  so !  " 

"  I  have  reason  to  fear,"  said  Cicely  quickly,  seizing 
the  bull  by  the  horns,  "  that  an  inmate  of  my  household 
was  very  rude  to  you  the  other  day.  I  hope  I've  been 
misinformed." 

"  No,  Mrs.  Ford,  you  have  not,"  said  Mrs.  de  Mullen, 
the  queenliness  reappearing  in  full  force.  "  Who  was 
that  individual,  if  I  may  ask?  " 

"  A  young  person  who  was  working  for  us,"  said 
Cicely  promptly.  "  An  ignorant  creature,  as  you  prob- 
ably observed." 

"  And  how  did  you  come  to  be  aware  of  the  contry- 
tempse?  "  pursued  Mrs.  de  Mullen  majestically. 

"  My  husband  happened  to  be  near  by/'  explained 
Cicely,  "  and  overheard. —  She  doesn't  work  for  us 
any  more,"  she  added,  with  a  veracious  inspiration. 

Mrs.  de  Mullen's  haughty  manner  relaxed.  "  I  am 
gratified  to  hear  that,"  she  said.  "  Her  manners  were 
shocking." 

"  They  were  indeed,"  agreed  Cicely.  "  My  husband 
was  appalled  at  her." 

"  Well,"  conceded  Mrs.  de  Mullen,  "  the  bur  Joyce  are 
apt  to  be  vulgar.  They  don't  know  any  better.  There 
are  not  many  of  them  in  Cheltenham,  fortunately." 

"  Have  you  lived  here  long?  "  inquired  Cicely,  seating 
herself  with  a  respectful  air. 

"  No ;  we  are  recent  acquisitions,"  said  the  great  lady 
affably.  "  We  formerly  resided  in  Cincinnati,  where 
Mr.  de  Mullen  was  what  the  French  call  a  hommedy- 
fairs.  But  between  you  and  me,  Mrs.  Ford,  there  is  no 


52      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

real  culture  there;  we  felt  out  of  place  in  such  onvi- 
rongs." 

"  I  hope  you  find  Cheltenham  more  congenial,"  said 
Cicely. 

"We  do;  so  much  so,"  replied  Mrs.  de  Mullen,  "that 
we  are  going  to  reside  here  permanently.  We  are  build- 
ing a  residence  now, —  a  commodious  residence  in  the 
French  style,  the  kind  they  call  a  shottoe." 

"  Indeed !  "  said  Cicely.  "  I  suppose  that's  to  ac- 
cord with  your  name.  I  noticed  at  once  that  you  were  of 
Gallic  origin." 

"  Did  you  really !  "  beamed  Mrs.  de  Mullen.  "  Yes, 
I'm  convinced  that  de  Mullen  is  a  form  of  a  well-known 
French  name, —  what  I  might  call  a  deckadong  form  at 
present.  Mr.  de  Mullen  was  inclined  to  pronounce  it 
Mullins  when  we  were  married,  but  I  corrected  that; 
and  when  our  shottoe  gets  done,  I'm  going  to  revive  it 
completely.  I  intend  to  always  have  a  little  dash, — 
what  the  French  call  a  soup-song, —  of  French  atmos- 
phere in  our  home." 

"  A  very  happy  thought,"  murmured  Cicely.  "  Your 
cousin  Comte  Rene  de  Gravecourt  de  Chesny-Desmoulins 
will  be  delighted.  Charming  creature,  your  cousin, 
isn't  he?  " 

Mrs.  de  Mullen  looked  sharply  at  her,  but  was  re- 
assured by  that  limpid,  respectful  gaze.  "  Well,  I  have 
so  many  cousins,"  she  said,  "  I  don't  exactly  call  him  to 
mind  at  the  moment.  But  I  have  no  doubt  he's  quite  de- 
rigger." 

At  this  moment  Roger,  who  had  been  hunting  for 
Cicely,  spied  her  lithe  green-and-white  figure,  and  came 


hurrying  to  her  side.  Cicely  greeted  him  with  a  dancing 
smile. 

"  Don't  interrupt,  Roger !  "  she  said.  "  Mrs.  de  Mul- 
len and  I  are  having  such  an  interesting  chat !  " 

"  Howdy-do,  Professor !  "  said  Mrs.  de  Mullen  gra- 
ciously. "  Your  wife  and  I  are  extremely  congenial 
affinities.  She's  a  very  bright  young  person." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  spoil  such  a  pleasant  interview,"  said 
Roger,  shaking  hands,  "  but  I  have  to  carry  her  off. 
She's  got  to  do  something  in  the  dining-room;  Mrs. 
Davidson  sent  me  to  say  so." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  have  to  pour,  because  I'm  a  bride,"  said 
Cicely,  rising.  "  I  suppose  brides  are  expected  to  be 
in  a  mood  to  make  libations.  I  can't  tell  you  how  I  have 
enjoyed  this  conversation,  Mrs.  de  Mullen." 

"Don't  mention  it,  Mrs.  Ford,  don't  mention  if!" 
returned  Mrs.  de  Mullen,  now  all  smiles.  "  Always  glad 
to  indulge  in  a  pleasant  vis-a-vis.  Good  night,  Profes- 
sor. I  am  coming  to  call  on  your  wife  just  as  soon  as 
my  social  duties  will  permit.  Bon  swore !  " 

"  You  wonderful  little  witch !  "  exclaimed  Roger,  in 
an  undertone,  as  they  crossed  the  room.  "  How  did  you 
do  it  ?  You've  got  her  ready  to  eat  out  of  your  hand !  " 

"  Now  that's  diplomacy !  "  said  Cicely  triumphantly. 
"  You'd  stalk  along  on  one  side  of  the  road  in  your  stuffy, 
high-minded  way.  and  let  her  waddle  along  the  other, 
until  you  both  dropped,  without  so  much  as  passing  the 
time  of  day;  and  then  you'd  wonder  why  you  didn't  get 
your  laboratory.  I'm  not  above  crossing  the  road  and  in- 
quiring after  the  health  of  the  cough-drops;  and  that's 
where  I  score.  It's  all  in  being  open-minded." 


54      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Perhaps  !  "  said  Roger  dubiously. 

"  Certainly !  "  said  Cicely  with  conviction.  "  Is  this 
the  dining-room?  Oh  yes,  and  here's  the  slave-driver. 
Au  'voir,  Roger." 

A  pretty,  nervous,  slightly  faded  woman,  with  social 
activity  written  large  upon  her  animated  face  and  modish 
gown,  came  hurrying  to  Cicely's  side. 

"  This  must  be  Mrs.  Ford,"  she  said  rapidly.  "  I'm 
Mrs.  Elton;  I  have  charge  of  the  dining-room;  it's  your 
turn  to  pour;  you're  to  take  the  coffee.  Over  here;  this 
chair.  Ask  the  waiters  for  whatever  you  want.  I'll  in- 
troduce as  many  people  as  I  can."  She  hurried  away, 
worried,  strained,  and  wholly  in  her  element. 

Cicely  looked  about  her  interestedly.  The  dining- 
room  of  the  President's  House  was  a  lofty,  dark,  beauti- 
ful apartment,  with  a  few  fine  pictures  and  an  atmos- 
phere of  mellowed  stateliness.  At  the  other  end  of  the 
long  table,  behind  the  piled  flowers,  sat  a  flushed  girl 
in  a  very  obvious  wedding-gown,  pouring  chocolate;  at 
smaller  tables  about  the  room  other  brides,  of  varying 
degrees  of  attractiveness,  dispensed  ices  and  cool  bever- 
ages. Negro  waiters  wriggled  in  and  out  among  the 
crowded  guests,  and  the  air  was  full  of  flower-fragrance 
and  the  rattle  of  animated  conversation. 

Presently,  in  a  distant  corner  of  the  room,  Cicely  spied 
a  knot  of  college  boys,  packed  together  in  a  tight  defen- 
sive wedge  and  eating  busily.  She  remembered  having 
heard  that  the  honour  men  of  the  senior  class, —  prize 
winners,  presidents  of  societies,  captains  of  teams, — 
were  invited  to  this  august  function,  and  divined  that  a 
fellow-feeling  of  shyness,  strengthened  by  their  minority 


THE  ENTERING  WEDGE       55 

in  so  large  an  assembly  of  elders,  had  drawn  them  into  a 
lonely  coalition.  Her  well-developed  social  instinct  re- 
monstrated: and,  while  she  busied  her  fingers  with  the 
cups  and  the  sugar-tongs,  and  her  tongue  with  polite  re- 
sponses to  the  many  civilities  pressed  upon  her,  she  kept 
planning  measures  for  withdrawing  them  from  their 
isolation. 

"  Mrs.  Elton !  "  she  said,  as  that  worried  lady  hastened 
by,  "  can't  something  be  done  for  those  boys  over  there  ? 
They  look  dreadfully  out  of  it." 

"  Oh,  my  dear,"  expostulated  Mrs.  Elton,  "  don't  talk 
to  me  about  boys!  Why,  there  are  three  trustees  here 
that  I  haven't  got  around  to  introducing  yet !  And  by  the 
way,  they're  all  d}ring  to  meet  you;  everybody's  talking 
about  you;  I'm  going  to  bring  them  up  as  soon  as  I  can; 
try  to  keep  a  clear  space  for  them.  You're  going  to  be 
the  success  of  the  season."  She  was  gone  again  before 
she  finished  speaking. 

"  Well,  if  she  won't  do  it,"  said  Cicely  to  herself,  "  I 
must  find  somebody  who  will.  I  can't  have  those  poor 
dears  languishing  alone  like  that."  Seeing  all  their  eyes 
fastened  upon  her  with  open  enthusiasm,  she  sent  them 
a  friendly  smile,  and  the  irradiation  of  their  faces  in 
eager  response  gave  her  an  inspiration.  "  Why,  I'll  go 
myself!"  she  thought.  "Of  course,  I'm  a  married 
woman  now;  I  can  do  as  I  please."  Her  face  bright- 
ened with  pleasure ;  she  slipped  from  her  chair,  and  went 
quickly  to  where  they  stood. 

"  Good  evening !  "  she  said.  "  Won't  you  come  and 
let  me  give  you  some  coffee?  " 

"  Will    we  ?  —     Won't    we  ?  —  I     should     think    we 


56      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

would !  "  Their  answers  tumbled  back  eagerly,  and  with 
prompt  unanimity  they  all  trooped  after  her  to  the  table, 
and  clustered  round  her  chair. 

"  Now,  this  is  better!  "  said  Cicely  blithely.  "  Cream? 
Sugar?  Two  lumps?  "  She  looked  them  over  from  the 
tail  of  her  eye  while  she  served  them,  noting  the  good 
breeding  and  good  clothes  of  them  all,  and  the  grace  and 
distinction  of  some.  "  Now  why  can't  Roger  talk  to 
me  about  nice  boys  like  these/'  she  thought,  "  instead  of 
those  janitors  and  scrubs  he's  always  raving  about? 
He  does  have  the  most  extraordinary  taste !  " 

"Better?  Well,  rather!"  said  the  boy  who  had  first 
answered  her, —  a  handsome  youngster,  dark-eyed, 
dark-haired  and  debonair.  "  We  were  stuck  there  like  a 
lot  of  turtles  in  a  mud-bank.  We're  a  thousand  times 
obliged  to  you  for  getting  us  out." 

"  \Vhat  made  you  stick  in  the  first  place?"  asked 
Cicely.  "  You're  all  able-bodied !  " 

"  Yes,  but  you  know  there's  nobody  here  except  profs 
and  that  sort,"  said  the  boy  confidentially.  "  There 
wasn't  any  one  we  wanted  to  talk  to  —  until  you  came." 

Cicely  smiled  at  this  ingenuous  tribute;  secure  in  the 
dignity  of  her  matronhood,  she  could  look  with  an  indul- 
gent eye  on  bold,  charming  boys.  "  That's  flattering  to 
all  the  intellectual  monarchs !  "  she  said.  "  You'd  better 
not  let  them  hear  you !  " 

"  I  don't  care  about  them !  "  said  the  boy  cheerfully. 
"  I'm  talking  to  you.  Haven't  you  just  come  to  this 
place  ?  " 

"  I  came  last  month,"  said  Cicely,  amused  at  his  frank 
curiosity.  "  Two  weeks  and  four  days  ago,  to  be  exact." 


THE  ENTERING  WEDGE       57 

"  I  thought  so !  "  said  the  boy.  "  I've  been  here  three 
years,  and  I  know  you  couldn't  have  stayed  around  long 
without  my  finding  out  about  it." 

"  Why,  are  you  the  official  censor  of  the  population  ?  " 
inquired  Cicely,  laughing  at  him. 

"  I  don't  know  beans  about  the  population,"  he  an- 
swered seriously,  "  but  if  you'd  been  here  I'd  have  known 
it." 

"  Here,  you  Spivvy !  "  interrupted  a  tall  boy,  elbowing 
the  speaker  indignantly.  "  Ring  off,  and  give  some- 
body else  a  chance !  " 

"  You  run  away  and  play  with  yourself,  Chug,"  said 
the  dark  boy  firmly.  "  This  is  my  turn.  I  can  do  with- 
out you." 

"  Maybe  you  can,"  retorted  the  other,  "  and  maybe  it's 
the  other  way  round.  Come,  get  in  motion ;  step  lively !  " 

"  You'll  both  have  to  move  pretty  quickly,"  interposed 
Cicely,  much  amused;  "in  fact,  everybody  who's  got 
coffee  will  have  to  stand  aside  this  very  minute;  here 
comes  Mrs.  Elton  with  both  hands  full  of  hungry  trustees 
and  deans." 

At  the  dread  name  of  dean,  the  boys  all  looked  uneasy, 
and  became  extraordinarily  circumspect;  and  taking 
their  cups  of  coffee  with  polite  murmurs,  they  receded 
rapidly  into  their  corner.  Cicely  watched  them  as  they 
ensconced  themselves,  and  again  from  time  to  time  be- 
tween her  ministrations  to  the  thirsty  dignitaries;  and 
always  she  found  their  admiring  eyes  upon  her,  and  al- 
ways flashed  a  bright  smile  of  friendship  back  at  them. 

At  last  Mrs.  Elton  came  hurrying  to  relieve  her  of 
duty.  "  Your  time's  up,"  she  said;  "and  I  really  think 


58      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

everybody's  been  fed;  and  anyway  Mrs.  Davidson  sent 
word  that  we  mustn't  keep  you  here  another  minute;  so 
go.  Everybody's  raving  about  you !  The  rooms  look 
lovely,  don't  they?  If  it  had  been  my  reception,  the 
cream  wouldn't  have  held  out.  I  do  hope  you've  had 
something  to  eat  yourself.  Good  night;  thank  you  so 
much;  I'm  coming  to  see  you  very  soon;  good-bye!  " 

At  the  dining-room  door  Roger  claimed  her;  and 
there,  seeing  her  surrounded  by  intellectual  lights,  the 
boys  nodded  her  a  shy  good  night.  They  had  eaten  all 
they  could,  and,  having  no  more  hope  of  conversation 
with  her,  were  going  home.  The  dark-haired  boy,  with 
his  engaging  assurance,  called  out,  "  Good-bye!  I'm  go- 
ing to  see  you  again,  somehow,  soon !  "  but  the  others  re- 
mained admiringly  mute  to  the  last. 

"  Let's  say  good  night,  dear,"  said  Roger.  "  It's 
late,  and  I  don't  want  you  to  get  too  tired." 

"  Oh,  it's  just  the  '  shank  of  the  evening,'  "  protested 
Cicely,  "  and  I'm  fresh  as  a  daisy !  I  don't  want  to  go 
yet." 

"  I  think  you  ought,"  said  Roger,  looking  at  her  solici- 
tously. "You're  more  used  up  than  you  think;  you'll 
feel  it  in  the  morning.  And  —  and  I  have  to  make  a 
very  early  start  to-morrow." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  go!  "  said  Cicely.  "  I'm  having 
such  a  good  time,  and  I  feel  so  frisky !  We  really  can't 
go  yet." 

"  I'm  afraid  we  must,"  said  Roger.  It  cost  him  an 
effort  to  be  firm,  but  the  fact  that  he  was  thinking  of 
Cicely  (who  never  knew  when  she  was  tired),  and  not 


THE  ENTERING  WEDGE       59 

of  himself,  gave  him  determination.  "  Come,  let's  be- 
gin/' he  added,  turning  towards  the  drawing-room. 

Cicely,  too  well  trained  to  quarrel  in  public,  turned  to 
accompany  him  without  further  remonstrance;  but  rebel- 
lion began  to  flash  up  within  her.  "  Roger  is  selfish !  " 
she  thought.  "  Just  because  he  has  to  get  up  early  in 
the  morning,  he  doesn't  want  me  to  enjoy  myself  at  all! 
Well,  I'll  have  some  fun  first.  I  won't  go  without  one 
little  fling." 

In  the  long  drawing-room  the  host  and  hostess  still 
stood  faithful  to  their  post,  wearily  smiling.  Cicely  led 
the  way  to  them,  her  face  demure,  her  hand  held  out. 
"  My  husband  says  we  have  to  say  good  night,"  she  said 
sweetly. 

"What,  Mrs.  Ford!  So  soon?"  said  the  President, 
reviving  into  animation.  "  Have  you  no  charity?  " 

Cicely,  summoning  the  conversational  powers  which 
pleased  him  best,  smiled  silently. 

"  Well,  well,"  he  answered  himself,  with  Jove-like 
geniality,  "  we  must  not  be  grasping.  We  must  take  the 
good  the  gods  provide  us,  and  be  thankful.  I  have  en- 
joyed this  meeting  to  the  full,  Mrs.  Ford.  May  I  look 
forward  to  another  delightful  chat  in  the  near  future? 
Ah,  thank  you ;  I  am  indeed  fortunate !  " 

"  Oh,  must  you  go  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Staunton,  with  her 
most  impressive  patronage.  "  Too  bad !  Thank  you  so 
much  for  helping  me.  I  will  tell  you  a  secret,  my  dear; 
a  little  bird  told  me  that  your  first  appearance  in  Chelten- 
ham was  a  distinct  success !  " 

The  mischief  and  recklessness  effervescing  in  Cicely 


60 

seethed  up  beyond  restraint.  She  stole  a  glance  at 
Roger ;  he  was  safely  occupied  with  the  President.  "  Oh, 
don't  mention  it!"  she  said.  "Delighted,  I'm  sure! 
And  since  you  are  so  kind,  I  must  tell  you  that  another 
little  bird  said  something  almost  as  nice  to  me  about 
your  reception.  Come,  Roger,  we  must  go.  We  really 
can't  dawdle  here  any  longer.  Good  night !  " 

"  Mrs.  Staunton  looked  a  little  odd  when  I  said 
good-bye  to  her,"  remarked  honest  Roger,  as  they  left 
the  room.  "  Perhaps  her  feet  pain  her  from  standing 
so  long." 

"  More  likely  her  self-satisfaction  has  gone  to  her 
head,"  rejoined  Cicely.  "  Good  night,  Dr.  Davidson, — 
don't  forget  about  those  thunderbolts !  Good  night,  Dr. 
Reynolds, —  I  hope  we  can  go  on  soon  from  where  we 
left  off !  "  And  now,  the  spirit  of  reckless  mischief 
having  taken  full  possession  of  her,  she  ran  to  where 
Mrs.  Simms  stood,  cloaked  and  determined,  in  the  hall, 
and  fixed  her  with  a  glance  brilliant  with  naughtiness. 
"  If  you'll  come  soon  to  see  me,  Mrs.  Simms,"  she  said, 
"  there's  still  hope  for  me.  I'm  not  too  old  yet  to 
learn !  " 

"  Here's  your  cloak,  dear,"  coaxed  Roger,  turning 
from  the  door  where  he  had  secured  it.  "  Come  and  put 
it  on;  the  cab's  waiting." 

"In  a  minute!"  said  Cicely.  "I  must  pay  my  re- 
spects first  to  the  aristocracy."  For  in  a  corner  near 
the  outer  door,  planted  on  a  small  and  trembling  otto- 
man, Mrs.  de  Mullen  sat  and  waited  for  her  triumphal 
car;  and  Cicely,  darting  towards  her,  swept  her  a  deep 
court  courtesy.  "  Adieu,  Madame  Martin-Desmoulins !  " 


THE  ENTERING  WEDGE       61 

she  said.  "  Commend  me  kindly  to  your  kinsfolk  of  the 
nobility,  and  let  me  help  you  when  you  compose  your 
coat-of-arms.  Lozenges  are  much  used !  " 

"  How  well  you  know  them  all,  sweetheart ! "  said 
Roger  fondly,  as  he  wrapped  her  in  her  velvet  cloak. 
"  And  how  well  they  all  know  you !  " 

"  They're  beginning  to,"  remarked  Cicely,  with  a 
tardy  misgiving.  "  Get  me  into  that  cab,  quick,  Roger. 
I  think  it  is  time  for  me  to  go." 


Ill 

THE    NEW    PUPIL 

CICELY  was  now  fully  launched  upon  the  delightful 
community  life  of  a  college  town.  Since  the  reception, 
and  the  stream  of  visits  that  followed  it,  she  was  a  duly 
incorporated  member  of  that  charmed  circle  where  brains 
and  breeding  are  the  only  social  coin,  and  money  is 
viewed  solely  as  a  prosaic  necessity, —  like  underwear, 
to  be  made  use  of  in  its  proper  place,  and  not  to  be 
mentioned  in  public.  Promptly  voted  a  valuable  acquisi- 
tion, she  was  welcomed  on  all  sides  with  even  more  than 
the  usual  warmth  of  this  warm-hearted  body;  her  prog- 
ress from  circle  to  inner  circle,  until  she  reached  the 
inmost  centre  of  exclusiveness,  was  comet-like  in  its 
brevity;  and  her  peers  in  age  and  position,  the  instruc- 
tors' and  assistant  professors'  wives,  observed  her  with 
envy  not  untinged  by  awe. 

Cicely  herself,  however,  was  far  from  appreciating  her 
good  fortune.  She  had  been  fed  all  her  life  on  cake,  and 
now  had  no  perception  of  the  superfine  quality  of  this 
wholesome  bread  and  butter.  In  the  glittering  world 
where  she  had  fluttered  away  the  first  part  of  her  brief 
career,  money  was  equally  non-existent,  being  so  omni- 
present as  to  be  taken  for  granted, —  and  it  is  an  un- 
doubted fact  that  it  is  pleasanter  to  ignore  money  be- 

62 


THE  NEW  PUPIL  63 

cause  of  a  surfeit  than  because  of  a  dearth: — while  as 
for  breeding  and  brains,  of  the  former  there  had  always 
been  an  embarrassment,  and  with  the  latter  she  had  never 
concerned  herself  one  way  or  the  other.  This  strange 
spectacle  of  brave  women  employing  abilities  that  might 
have  directed  great  establishments  in  such  humdrum 
cares  as  keeping  the  children  clothed  and  the  board 
spread,  and  in  the  greater  task  of  achieving  frugality 
without  sordidness,  filled  her  only  with  impatient  pity; 
and  the  many  men  who  had  sacrificed  opportunities  of 
brilliant  commercial  prosperity  for  ideals  and  poverty 
impressed  her  not  at  all.  Her  good  breeding  made  her 
accept  all  the  tributes  of  hospitality  that  were  offered 
her  sweetly  and  appreciatively  enough,  but  without  the 
slightest  conception  of  the  thought,  labour  and  sacrifice 
that  they  stood  for:  and  the  day  after  many  a  faculty 
function,  when  the  hostess  was  trying  not  to  sigh  as  she 
thought,  "  That  means  another  week  off  our  summer  out- 
ing !  "  Cicely  herself  was  reflecting,  "  It  was  nice  of 
them  to  do  it,  but  I  don't  see  much  fun  in  shabby  par- 
ties !  " 

Yet  Cicely  was  by  no  means  bored  in  her  new  environ- 
ment. The  very  youth  and  inexperience  which  blinded 
her  to  its  finer  aspects  sharpened  her  appetite  for  all 
that  was  unwonted  in  it,  and  made  her  approach  it  with 
zest.  She  turned  to  each  new  phase  of  her  complex 
surroundings  with  the  eager  amusement  of  a  child  at  a 
new  game:  only  this  life  as  she  saw  it  was  a  very  differ- 
ent matter  from  the  stately  and  beautiful  life  to  which 
Roger  had  believed  he  was  bringing  her. 

"  Cheltenham  is  a  great  deal  more  interesting  than  I 


64      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

thought  it  would  be,  Badger/'  she  told  him  cheerfully. 
"  Do  you  know  what  I  like  about  it?  " 

"  I  can  guess,"  said  Roger,  looking  gratified  and 
happy.  "  It's  the  fine,  inspiring  atmosphere,  and  the 
big  opportunity  to  be  useful  to  your  fellow-men." 

"  Oh,  no,  that  isn't  it,"  said  Cicely.  "  It's  the  freaks. 
I  never  had  any  idea  there  could  be  so  many  in  one 
place;  it's  a  real  revelation." 

"  The  freaks !  "  repeated  Roger.  "  But  don't  you  like 
the  nice  people, —  the  brilliant  ones,  the  lovely  ones? 
Don't  you  feel  your  life  enlarged  since  you  came  ?  " 

"  Can't  say  I've  noticed  myself  '  swellin'  wisibly ! ' ' 
replied  Cicely.  "  No,  I  like  the  de  Mullens,  and  the 
Simmses,  and  that  cock-eyed  man  that  hunts  caterpillars, 
and  the  bald-headed  one  that  has  aphasia.  If  I  didn't 
know  a  soul  but  those, —  and  you,  of  course, —  I 
should  never  have  a  dull  moment." 

"  I'm  glad  to  know  what  category  I  belong  in,"  said 
Roger,  with  a  crestfallen  smile.  "  I  might  take  a  clown 
course  in  a  dramatic  correspondence  school,  and  then  per- 
haps I  could  entertain  you  when  your  other  friends 
weren't  around." 

"  You'd  better  practise  to  outdo  them  in  funniness 
while  they're  here,"  said  Cicely  gaily,  "  for  when  they're 
not  around,  you're  not  either." 

It  was  true  that  the  two  saw  little  of  each  other  in 
these  days.  Now  that  work  was  in  full  swing,  Roger 
left  directly  after  breakfast,  had  classes  until  noon,  and 
departed  after  luncheon  to  spend  the  afternoon  in  the 
laboratory.  By  the  time  he  returned  there  was  usually 
a  small  throng  about  the  tea-table,  which  lingered  until 


THE  NEW  PUPIL  65 

almost  dinner-dressing-time;  and  in  the  evening  there 
were  always  engagements.  The  days  of  long  walks  and 
long  talks  and  long  dreaming  under  the  trees  were  gone, 
and  the  thousand  intricate  interests  of  every-day  usurped 
their  place.  Roger,  absorbed  heart  and  soul  in  his  work 
though  he  was,  missed  the  earlier  communion  passion- 
ately; and  Cicely,  while  she  slipped  easily  into  a  busy 
round  of  pursuits  much  like  those  she  had  left  behind  in 
her  girlhood,  was  often  lonely  and  vaguely  dissatisfied. 

As  she  had  foreseen, —  or  willed, —  Mrs.  Reynolds 
was  the  first  of  all  her  new  acquaintances  to  become  a 
real  part  of  her  life.  Little  woman-of-the-world  as 
Cicely  was,  she  was  yet  at  heart  an  inexperienced  child; 
her  naughtinesses  were  only  the  effect  of  mischievous 
high  spirits  and  life-long  spoiling;  and  she  found  in  Mrs. 
Reynolds'  flippant  cynicism  an  indication  of  enviable 
superiority.  The  two  fell  soon  into  close  intimacy; 
and  Cicely's  bright  spirit  humbly  sat  at  her  friend's 
feet,  to  learn  of  her. 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  dragged  you  over  here  to-day, 
Clarissa,"  said  Cicely  one  afternoon,  as  they  settled 
themselves  before  a  crackling  fire,  with  the  tea-table 
cosily  between  them.  "  I  know  you  have  any  quantity 
of  things  to  do;  and  as  for  me,  I  owe  ten  thousand  calls, 
at  the  most  conservative  estimate." 

"  I'd  always  rather  be  amused  than  do  things,  my 
love,"  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  in  her  lazy  voice;  "and 
you've  no  idea  how  glad  I  was  to  get  away  to-day, — 
it's  my  day  for  writing  to  my  mother-in-law.  These 
are  the  best  sandwiches  I  ever  ate.  I'll  tell  you  what  to 
do  about  your  calls, —  wait  till  woman's-club  day,  when 


66      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

they're  all  out,  and  you  can  kill  ten  in  an  afternoon." 

"  That's  a  splendid  scheme ! "  exclaimed  Cicely. 
"  Only  I  can  never  wait  until  Friday  to  pay  off  my  din- 
ner calls.  Mrs.  Simms  is  beginning  to  bore  me  with  her 
eyes  like  two  gimlets." 

"  Old  Simms ! "  drawled  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "  Isn't 
she  the  Iron  Duke?  No  need  to  put  whalebone  in  her 
corset!  I  pity  poor  little  Amy  when  he  gets  his  ears 
boxed." 

"What's  his  name?"  asked  Cicely,  with  interest. 
"  He  looks  like  a  Luke, —  like  tepid  water,  or  cold 
soup." 

"  He's  an  Amos,"  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  nibbling  an- 
other sandwich  with  the  languid  grace  under  whose  pro- 
tection she  consumed  an  astonishing  amount  of  nourish- 
ment. "  The  boys  call  him  Amy,  so  it  does  very  well. 
Only  I  always  thought  it  ought  to  be  Aimless." 

"  She  supplies  the  aim !  "  said  Cicely.  "  What's  her 
name?  " 

"  Maria,  of  course !  "  replied  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "  What 
else  could  it  be?  —  unless  it  was  Boadicea.  Do  give 
me  another  cup." 

"  It's  very  curious,"  remarked  Cicely,  ministering  to 
her  guest,  "  that  a  vacuum-cleaner  like  her  should  have 
taken  up  with  a  little  microbe  like  him.  How  do  you 
account  for  it?  " 

"  Law  of  Disagreement,"  averred  Mrs.  Reynolds 
oracularly.  "  The  only  thing  that  makes  marriage  en- 
durable. What  do  you  marry  people  for,  if  not  to  dis- 
agree with  them?  " 


THE  NEW  PUPIL  67 

Cicely  looked  nonplussed:  she  was  ashamed  to  avow 
her  own  milk-and-water  motive  for  matrimony  in  the 
presence  of  this  enlightened  sophistication.  "  I  never 
thought  much  about  it,"  she  evaded. 

"  Well,  observe,"  directed  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "  You  see 
it  all  about  you.  Kent  is  a  whirlwind,  I'm  lazy  as  the 
deuce.  Maria  is  cayenne  and  paprika,  Amy  is  cream 
cheese.  If  married  people  agreed  with  each  other,  life 
would  be  a  dismal  bore.  You're  a  case  in  point;  you're 
champagne,  your  husband  is  —  I  don't  know  just  what 
—  oatmeal,  or  beefsteak,  or  anything  solid  and  staid. 
It  stands  to  reason  you'll  fight,  and  so  your  marriage  will 
be  justified." 

Cicely  winced  a  little;  she  had  not  expected  to  get  as 
near  home  as  this !  Clarissa  was,  of  course,  wrong. 
And  yet  it  was  an  attribute  of  Clarissa's  wisdom  to  be  al- 
most infallibly  right:  and  it  was  true,  when  one  came 
to  think  of  it,  that  she  and  Roger  did  not  agree  as  she 
had  supposed  they  would.  She  felt  disturbed  and  un- 
easy, and,  to  hide  her  troubled  face,  she  turned  away 
and  touched  the  bell  for  Hitty. 

"  We  shall  need  some  more  sandwiches  in  a  minute," 
she  said,  as  that  frank  hand-maiden  presented  a  disap- 
proving face  at  the  door.  "  Begin  to  make  them  now, 
and  then  they'll  be  ready  when  we  are." 

"  I'll  make  ye  plain  bread-'n'-butter  ones,  then,"  said 
Hitty.  "  That  patty-foy-grass  stuff  is  most  gone." 

"  Well,  use  what's  left  of  it,"  said  Cicely,  "  and  we'll 
get  some  more.  That's  simple." 

"  It  costs  a  dollar'n'  a  half  a  jar,  Mis'  Ford!  "  stated 


68      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Hitty  severely.  "An'  we've  bed  three  jars  now  sence 
school  begun  to  keep.  It's  enough  to  ruin  John  D. 
Rockefeller." 

Cicely  flushed.  "  That  will  do,  Hitty,"  she  said. 
"  Please  make  them  now,  and  bring  them  in  when  they 
are  ready." 

"  Well,  suit  yourself,"  grumbled  Hitty,  departing. 
"  All  I  c'n  say  is,  patty-foy-grass'll  make  a  fine  pavin' 
for  the  road  to  the  poorhouse." 

"  Isn't  she  a  lark !  "  observed  Mrs.  Reynolds,  munch- 
ing another  sandwich.  "  I'd  rather  have  her  than  a 
phonograph." 

"  Yes,  she's  good  fun,  but  she  makes  me  dreadfully 
cross,"  said  Cicely.  "  She  will  keep  saying  I'm  extrava- 
gant." 

"  Well,  for  that  matter,"  remarked  Mrs.  Reynolds 
tranquilly,  "  you  are,  of  course." 

"  /  extravagant ! "  exclaimed  Cicely  indignantly. 
"  Why,  Clarissa,  what  an  idea !  You're  as  bad  as  Mrs. 
Davidson !  " 

"  You  flatter  me ! "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  with  her 
satirical  smile.  "  Sister  Davidson  would  call  you  ex- 
travagant as  if  it  were  a  sin ;  I  mean  it  for  a  compliment. 
Anybody  who  wasn't  extravagant  in  this  poverty-stricken 
life  wouldn't  have  the  spirit  of  a  cow." 

Cicely  was  relieved;  it  was  cheering  to  have  this  ex- 
pert encouragement.  "Are  you  extravagant,  then?" 
she  asked. 

({  Am  I !  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  with  lazy  gusto.  "  Ask 
Kent.  He's  come  to  the  place  now,  when  the  bills  come 
in,  where  he  can't  do  anything  but  swear.  I  tell  him 


THE  NEW  PUPIL  69 

that  if  he  expects  to  live  on  a  labouring  man's  wages  he 
ought  to  have  married  a  chambermaid." 

"That's  what  I  tell  Roger!"  said  Cicely;  and  then 
stopped  short,  blushing.  She  had  never  thought  of  say- 
ing such  a  thing  to  Roger ;  but  she  wished  to  shine  before 
her  brilliant  friend,  and  now  she  was  ashamed  of  hav- 
ing so  poor  a  stock  of  conjugal  repartee  to  draw  on. 

"  Never  mind,  my  life,"  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  with  a 
smile  of  malicious  comprehension.  "  You'll  say  it  to 
him  yet.  Wait  till  you've  been  married  five  years,  and 
you'll  be  astonished  at  the  conversational  powers  you 
develop." 

"  Hitty  takes  a  long  time !  "  remarked  Cicely,  winc- 
ing again.  "  Perhaps  she's  decided  that  bread  is  too 
expensive,  and  gone  out  to  pick  us  some  grass.  Oh  no, 
she's  coming;  I  hear  her  creaking  across  the  dining- 
room." 

"  Ther's  some  folks  comin'  to  see  ye !  "  said  Hitty,  en- 
tering. "  I  seen  'em  from  the  winder.  Beats  all  the 
way  the  folks  in  this  town  go  on, —  traipsin'  in  'n' 
out  all  day  long,  eatin'  us  out  o'  house  'n'  home." 

"  They  don't  all  have  such  appetites  as  I  have, 
Hitty !  "  drawled  Mrs.  Reynolds. 

"  No  'm,  they  don't ;  that's  one  mercy,"  agreed  Hitty 
heartily.  "  But  averagin'  'em  all  up,  they  do  eat  scan- 
dalous. Makes  me  think  o'  my  cousin  Hiram's  wife;  she 
kep'  boarders,  an'  she  said — " 

"  I  think  you'd  better  answer  the  doorbell  before  you 
tell  us,"  interrupted  Cicely.  "  And  take  out  this  tea- 
pot, please,  and  bring  the  big  one.  We'll  postpone  the 
anecdotes  until  later."  She  pushed  back  her  chair  from 


the  fireside,  straightened  the  tea-table  with  a  few  deft 
touches,  and,  shaking  her  dainty,  tumbled  frock  into  order, 
turned  gladly  towards  the  door  to  greet  the  diversion. 

Across  the  threshold,  propelled  by  Hitty,  came  an 
elderly  couple  of  curiously  unworldly  aspect, —  a 
gaunt,  bearded,  abstracted-looking  man,  and  a  little  flus- 
tered woman  with  an  antiquated  bonnet  set  much  askew. 
Hitty,  with  one  of  those  social  inspirations  peculiar  to 
herself,  placed  their  cards  on  a  window-sill  in  a  remote 
corner  of  the  room,  and  departed,  teapot  still  in  hand. 
The  two  visitors,  apparently  totally  oblivious  of  any 
need  for  their  introducing  themselves,  stood  waiting  to  be 
acclaimed,  the  man  serenely,  the  little  woman  in  a  nerv- 
ous flutter;  Cicely,  taken  aback  by  the  oddness  of  their 
appearance,  hesitated  for  her  cue;  and  Mrs.  Reynolds, 
who  alone  held  the  key  to  the  situation,  sat  enjoying  it 
in  malicious  silence.  There  was  a  long,  embarrassed 
pause,  most  unusual  in  that  animated  room.  Then 
Cicely,  spurring  herself  into  the  breach,  went  uncertainly 
forward. 

"  I  am  Mrs.  Ford,"  she  said.  "  Did  you  come  to  see 
me?  " 

"  We  did,  madam,"  said  the  spectacled  man.  The  little 
woman  started  nervously,  and  remained  silent. 

"  Then,"  said  Cicely,  covering  her  confusion  with  the 
pretty  vivacity  which  she  could  always  command,  "  we 
must  tell  our  names,  or  we  can't  begin  to  play.  I  said 
mine  was  Cicely  Ford,  didn't  I  ?  What  are  yours  ?  " 

"  Madam,"  said  the  male  visitor  solemnly,  "  my  name 
is  Erasmus  Jenkinson.  I  have  the  honour  to  be  profes- 
sor of  Greek  philology  in  this  institution,  a  post  which  I 


THE  NEW  PUPIL  71 

have  held  for  nearly  forty  years,  and  in  connection  with 
which,  I  venture  to  say,  my  name  is  not  unknown.  This 
lady  is  Mrs.  Jenkinson,  my  wife.  I  fear,  however,  you 
are  under  some  misapprehension  as  to  the  purpose  of  our 
visit.  We  have  come  merely  to  make  a  social  call,  know- 
ing and  esteeming  your  husband,  and  being  informed  that 
you  are  a  newcomer  and  bride;  it  is,  I  believe,  an  estab- 
lished custom.  But  you  employ  the  word  '  play ' ; 
whether  you  refer  to  billiards,  chess,  or  this  new  pas- 
time oddly  designated  'bridge,'  I  do  not  know;  but  I 
fear  you  will  find  us  ill  prepared  for  any  of  these  di- 
versions." 

Cicely's  eyes  danced.  "  I  employed  the  word,"  she 
said,  "in  a  metaphorical  and  perhaps  ill-judged  sense. 
My  intention  was  to  communicate  a  desire  for  social  in- 
tercourse, not  necessarily  of  a  sportive  nature.  Will 
JTOU  be  seated,  and  allow  me  to  offer  you  refreshment?  " 
Though,  to  save  her  life,  she  could  not  help  imitating 
him,  she  did  it  with  perfect  courtesy,  paying  no  atten- 
tion to  Mrs.  Reynolds'  mirth;  pompous  and  stilted  as 
the  old  gentleman  was,  there  was  about  him  an  innate 
dignity  and  a  faintly  suggested  pathos  that  compelled 
her  respect.  She  seated  the  pair  with  careful  considera- 
tion, and  took  her  place  at  the  tea-table. 

"  I  have  to  ask  you  to  wait  until  the  kettle  boils  again," 
she  said,  "  for  Mrs.  Reynolds  and  I  had  so  little  fore- 
thought as  to  have  our  tea  before  you  came.  You 
are  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Reynolds,  of  course?  It  is 
only  I,  the  stranger  and  ignoramus,  who  find  most  faces 
unfamiliar  here." 

"  The  first  of  your  disadvantages  will  soon  be  reme- 


72      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

died  by  the  sovereign  touch  of  Time;  and  the  second,  I 
am  persuaded,  exists  only  in  your  own  undue  humility," 
said  the  old  gentleman,  with  a  stiff,  courtly  bow.  "  Yes, 
I  am  not  unacquainted  with  Mrs.  Reynolds.  How  do  you 
do,  madam?  It  is  some  time,  I  think,  since  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  an  encounter  with  you." 

Cicely,  leaving  him  in  the  hands  of  her  friend,  turned 
to  the  little  woman,  who  had  not  yet  uttered  an  audible 
word. 

"  I  find  the  hardest  part  of  being  a  stranger  is  this 
matter  of  introductions !  "  she  said,  with  that  charming 
air  of  making  a  confidence  which  was,  in  her,  a  totally 
unconscious  coquetry.  "  At  first  I  thought  all  the  peo- 
ple I  met  were  as  strange  as  I,  and  introduced  everybody ; 
and  then  it  seemed  that  they  all  knew  each  other,  and 
I  didn't  introduce  any  one;  and  now  I  find  that  some  do 
and  some  don't,  and  I  don't  know  how  to  act." 

"  Yes  —  yes, — "  said  Mrs.  Jenkinson.  "  Yes  indeed. 
I  —  I  —  yes." 

"What  do  you  do?"  prompted  Cicely.  "I  suppose 
you  know  by  instinct  who  knows  whom.  I  get  very 
much  embarrassed;  for  I'm  officious  if  I  introduce  people 
who  know  each  other,  and  rude  if  I  don't  introduce  peo- 
ple who  don't." 

"  Yes  —  oh  no,  I  shouldn't  put  it  that  way, — "  mur- 
mured Mrs.  Jenkinson,  a  timid  gleam  lighting  in  her 
pale  eyes  as  they  rested  on  Cicely's  lovely  face,  "  that 
is  — "  Her  courage  failed  her,  and  her  voice  trailed  off 
indistinctly  into  silence  again. 

"  What  ails  the  woman  ?  "  thought  Cicely  impatiently. 
"  Poor  stupid  little  thing,  she  hasn't  sense  enough  to 


THE  NEW  PUPIL  73 

call  her  soul  her  own."  She  turned  away  with  relief  as 
Hitty  entered  with  the  large  silver  teapot.  "  Now  you 
shan't  go  hungry  any  longer/'  she  said,  brightening. 
"  Don't  tell  me  you've  had  your  tea  already,  or  I  shall 
be  disappointed." 

"  No,  we  —  we  hardly  ever  take  it  —  that  is  —  I 
mean  to  say — "  began  the  little  woman;  and  then  broke 
off,  flushing  painfully. 

"But  it  can't  hurt  you,  just  a  cup  or  two  a  day!" 
protested  Cicely.  "  Professor  Jenkinson !  " — though 
she  had  fallen  at  once  into  the  habit  of  the  inner  circle, 
of  calling  all  these  men  of  honourable  title  plain  "  Mr." 
except  for  purposes  of  introduction,  her  quick  instinct 
perceived  that  this  new  specimen  of  the  genus  would 
prefer  the  more  pompous  address, —  "  you  are  fond  of 
tea,  I  trust?  " 

"  Tea,  madam,"  said  the  professor,  turning  with  mild 
avidity  from  his  rather  juiceless  conversation  with  Mrs. 
Reynolds,  "  is  a  beverage  that  has  been  esteemed  by  our 
wise  neighbours  of  the  Orient  throughout  many  of  the 
centuries  by  which  their  civilization  antedates  ours.  I 
follow,  then,  an  estimable  precedent  when  I  avow  a  taste 
for  it." 

"  You  enter  the  illustrious  society  of  the  great  lexicog- 
rapher," rejoined  Cicely,  reverting  promptly  to  his  man- 
ner of  speech.  "  I  permit  myself  to  cherish  the  hope  that 
my  concoction  may  find  as  appreciative  a  reception  in 
you,  as  it  might  have  in  the  inner  fastnesses  of  that  emi- 
nent man." 

"  But  not,  I  trust,  to  the  same  immoderate  extent !  " 
exclaimed  the  professor.  "  I  must  protest  against  being 


74      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

laid  under  the  charge  of  lack  of  appreciation  if  I  fail  to 
consume  the  Doctor's  wonted  eighteen  cups ! "  He 
chuckled  at  his  animated  repartee,  and  blinked  with  as- 
tonished satisfaction  in  himself  and  his  surroundings. 

At  this  hilarious  moment  Hitty  again  drew  aside  the 
portiere  to  admit  two  visitors.  These  were  another  mar- 
ried couple,  as  completely  the  opposites  of  the  last  com- 
ers as  if  they  had  been  products  of  a  different  civiliza- 
tion :  assurance, —  veiled,  courteous,  but  unmistakable, — 
was  their  note;  they  were  well-fed,  well-bred,  well- 
dressed,  and  perfectly  at  ease.  Although  Hitty's  social 
instinct  prompted  her  this  time  to  carry  the  cards  back 
with  her  to  the  kitchen,  there  was  no  awkward  pause. 
The  incoming  lady  advanced  with  a  subdued  rich  rustle 
to  meet  Cicely  half  way,  saying  at  once,  in  a  pleasant, 
conventional  voice,  "  Mrs.  Ford  ?  I  am  Mrs.  Drum- 
mond;  this  is  my  husband.  We  are  fortunate  to  find 
you  at  home." 

Cicely  slipped  easily  and  gratefully  into  this  accus- 
tomed key.  "  It  is  I  who  am  fortunate  to  be  found," 
she  said.  "  Mrs.  Drummond,  I  am  sure  you  know  Mrs. 
Reynolds,  and  Mrs.  Jenkinson,  and  Dr.  Jenkinson.  Mr. 
Drummond,  I  am  very  glad  to  meet  you, —  Mrs. 
Reynolds,  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Jenkinson, —  Mr.  Drummond." 

Mrs.  Reynolds  bowed  with  her  lazy  grace,  Mrs.  Jen- 
kinson gave  a  couple  of  flurried  little  nods,  and  Mrs. 
Drummond,  greeting  each  rapidly,  proceeded  at  once 
to  ignore  them  all  and  seat  herself  beside  Cicely.  Mr. 
Drummond  included  the  whole  group  in  one  of  those 
unrestricted  general  bows  with  which  busy  men  are  apt 
to  discharge  their  social  obligations  in  a  lump,  and  also 


THE  NEW  PUPIL  75 

took  a  chair  near  Cicely.  The  two  women,  hostess  and 
newly-arrived  visitor,  had  already  begun  the  inevitable 
veiled  appraisal  of  each  other's  taste  and  attractiveness, 
and  had  both  opened  their  lips  for  the  conventional  com- 
monplaces, when  suddenly  Professor  Jenkinson,  who  had 
been  laboriously  getting  upon  his  feet,  launched  out  upon 
them  with  an  impressive  exordium  in  the  classic  style. 

"  Xo,  madam,  I  must  inform  you  that  you  are  in  error; 
I  have  not  previously  had  the  privilege  of  this  lady's  and 
gentleman's  acquaintance ;  I  look  forward  to  making  it 
upon  this  occasion.  But  before  I  do  so  I  must  state, 
to  you  and  to  them,  as  well  as  to  this  other  lady  on  my 
left,  that  you  have  conferred  upon  me  a  distinction  to 
which  I  can  lay  no  claim.  I  refer  to  the  title  of 
'  Doctor,'  with  which  you  have  honorifically  but  unjustly 
embellished  my  name.  I  am  not  a  doctor  of  philosophy. 
In  the  day,  now  somewhat  distant,  when  I  prepared 
for  this  worthy  profession,  the  degree  of  master  of  arts 
was  esteemed  sufficient  equipment;  and  that,  I  may  say, 
I  possess;  but,  though  I  deplore  the  circumstance,  I  fear 
it  is  now  too  late  for  me  to  acquire  the  more  distin- 
guished title.  Having  made  this  correction,  I  am  glad, 
madam  and  sir,  to  avail  myself  of  the  opportunity  af- 
forded me  by  our  hostess  to  inaugurate  an  acquaintance 
with  you." 

The  old  gentleman,  having  finished,  looked  about  him 
blankly.  He  had  risen  to  respond  in  fitting  form  to  an 
introduction  which  he  considered  himself  about  to  under- 
go, and  now  he  found  introducer  and  introduced  calmly 
seated  and  well  embarked  on  the  next  phase  of  the 
situation.  He  blinked  in  bewilderment  behind  his  spec- 


76      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

tacles.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Drummond,  quite  unaware  of  what 
was  expected  of  them,  gazed  at  him  in  polite  astonish- 
ment, Mrs.  Reynolds  made  no  attempt  to  hide  her  mock- 
ing smile,  and  Cicely,  embarrassed  and  troubled,  was  at 
a  loss  what  to  do.  The  situation  hung  fire  for  a  difficult 
moment. 

Oddly  enough,  it  was  little  Mrs.  Jenkinson  who  res- 
cued it.  As  her  half-frightened  glance  fled  around  the 
circle,  she  saw  Mrs.  Reynolds'  satirical  smile,  and  a  dull 
flush  mounted  over  her  small,  faded  face.  With  a  sud- 
den decisiveness  which  no  one  would  have  supposed  pos- 
sible to  her,  she  also  rose  to  her  feet. 

"  Yes,  we're  very  glad  to  have  met  you,"  she  said, 
quite  clearly  and  firmly,  "  and  now, —  you  are  right, 
Erasmus, —  we  must  go.  Good  day,  all." 

"  Oh,  please  don't  hurry  away !  "  exclaimed  Cicely, 
starting  up.  "  It's  far  too  soon !  Sit  down  and  let  us 
all  have  a  little  chat  together." 

"Thank  you;  we  must  go,"  repeated  Mrs.  Jenkinson 
resolutely.  "  Good-bye,  Mrs.  Ford.  Come,  father." 
She  put  her  hand  within  her  husband's  arm,  and  gently 
pushed  him, —  still  some  minutes  behind  the  situation, — 
to  the  door. 

"  What  an  odd  pair ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Drummond, 
settling  herself  comfortably.  "  Just  one  lump,  please, 
Mrs.  Ford.  As  I  was  saying,  we  are  peculiarly  for- 
tunate to  find  you,  because  our  opportunities  for  seeing 
you  are  to  be  limited."  She  studied  Cicely's  toilette 
with  critically  approving  eyes  while  she  spoke:  in  her 
own  way  she  too  was  perfectly  dressed,  with  a  rich 


THE  NEW  PUPIL  77 

severity  which  suited  her  excellent  figure,  rather  plain 
face,  and  decisive  personality. 

Cicely,  unable  to  dismiss  a  lingering  uneasiness  over 
the  abrupt  departure  of  her  other  visitors,  listened  with 
a  divided  mind.  "  Are  you  thinking  of  travelling?  "  she 
asked  perfunctorily. 

"  Oh,  we're  always  on  the  wing,"  said  Mrs.  Drum- 
mond.  "  We  shall  be  off  in  a  week ;  and  though  we  say 
it's  only  to  California,  I  fancy  we  shall  end  by  keeping 
on  around  the  world." 

"  How  delightful !  "  said  Cicely.  "  I  should  love  to 
see  the  Orient." 

"  Yes,  it's  odd,"  said  Mrs.  Drummond.  "  It's  not 
particularly  agreeable,  but  then  one  gets  so  tired  of  the 
inevitable  European  routes.  How  do  you  like  Chelten- 
ham ?  Charming,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Very  pleasant !  "  said  Cicely,  with  an  imperceptible 
grimace  at  Mrs.  Reynolds  over  the  familiar  question. 

"  It's  adorable,"  said  Mrs.  Drummond  decidedly. 
"  And  now,  Mrs.  Ford,  what  evening  can  you  give  us 
for  dinner  before  we  go?  " 

Cicely  came  out  of  her  hovering  abstraction  with  a 
start.  "  But  —  but  —  dine  with  you !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Why,  I  thought  you  were  going  in  a  week !  " 

"So  we  are;  I  know  it's  abrupt,"  said  Mrs.  Drum- 
mond :  "  but  you  see  we've  really  no  time  for  ceremony." 

"  But,"  protested  Cicely,  "  you  don't  know  yet  whether 
you'll  like  us  or  not." 

"  We'll  risk  that !  "  said  Mrs.  Drummond ;  indeed  it 
was  obvious  that  she  had  already  conceived  a  decided 


78      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

approval  of  Cicely.  "  Just  name  a  day;  that's  all  I 
ask." 

Cicely  hesitated;  she  rather  liked  Mrs.  Drumrnond, 
and  Clarissa  was  urging  her  noiselessly  with  her  lips, 
"  Oh,  go!  go!  "  but  it  annoyed  her  to  be  rushed  off  her 
feet.  Yet  there  was  something  in  Mrs.  Dummond's  evi- 
dent habit  of  success  in  the  past,  and  expectation  of  suc- 
cess in  the  future,  that  seemed  to  make  yielding  in- 
evitable. Her  resistance  was  brief. 

"  We've  only  one  evening  free  in  that  time,"  she  said 
doubtfully. 

"What  is  it?"  pressed  Mrs.  Drummond.  "If  it 
doesn't  fit  my  plans,  I'll  make  my  plans  fit  it." 

"  Wednesday,"  said  Cicely.     "  But  I  don't  know  — 

"  Wednesday  it  is !  "  said  Mrs.  Drummond,  briskly. 
"  At  half-past  seven.  And  now,  Mrs.  Ford,  I  must  leave 
you.  I  have  to  rearrange  next  week  a  little,  and  then 
there  are  a  thousand  things  to  see  to  before  we  go. 
Good-bye;  I'm  so  grateful  to  you.  Good-day,  Mrs. 
Reynolds."  She  rustled  rapidly  out,  her  husband  fol- 
lowing with  one  of  his  brief  comprehensive  bows. 

"Well,"  drawled  Mrs.  Reynolds,  "there's  an  object- 
lesson  for  you !  " 

"  An  object-lesson  of  what?  "  demanded  Cicely,  some- 
what ruffled.  "  What  a  queer  invitation !  Why  in  the 
world  did  I  accept  it?  " 

"  You  accepted  because  you  simply  couldn't  help  it," 
stated  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "  It's  an  object-lesson  of  the 
divine  power  of  wealth, —  the  power  that  all  these  high- 
minded  geese  pretend  to  scorn,  the  power  that  keeps  'em 
all  dancing.  Look  at  that  woman;  she's  not  young,  she's 


THE  NEW  PUPIL  79 

not  pretty,  she's  not  clever,  and  yet  she's  charming; 
she  charmed  you  so  that  you  accepted  her  invitation 
without  meaning  to;  she  charmed  me  so  that  I  sat  within 
perfectly  plain  hearing  of  it, —  knowing  that  it  ought  to 
have  included  me  and  didn't, —  and  never  got  up  the 
ghost  of  a  grudge.  That's  what  money  can  do.  That 
poise, —  that  potency, —  that  heavenly  assurance !  Oh, 
give  me  a  sandwich;  I'm  getting  lyrical." 

Cicely  looked  doubtful.  "  Aunt  Lucille  always  said 
it  was  bad  form  to  talk  about  money,"  she  said. 

"  Well,  it  may  be  bad  form  to  talk  about  it,"  returned 
Mrs.  Reynolds,  "  but  to  worship  it, —  to  bend  the  knee 
to  it, —  why,  that's  the  chief  end  of  man." 

Cicely  frowned,  toying  with  the  tea-things.  This  wise 
mentor  of  hers  set  her  puzzling  lessons.  "  What  are 
they  doing  here,  anyway?"  she  demanded  presently. 

"  Worshipping  the  high-brows, —  the  usual  millionaire 
pose,"  scoffed  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "  They  think,  because 
they  aren't  in  it,  that  the  learned  life  is  paradise.  I'd 
like  to  give  them  a  taste  of  it,  and  see  what  a  face  they'd 
make !  But  you'll  observe  that  even  they  only  kowtow 
to  the  successful  ones.  They  made  short  work  of  old 
Whiskers  there,  I'd  like  you  to  remember." 

"  Oh,  poor  old  things !  "  said  Cicely.  "  I  do  wonder 
what  made  them  hurry  off  so." 

"  I  wonder !  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  smiling  mockingly. 
"  Well,  they'd  bored  us  long  enough,  anyway.  And 
there's  another  object-lesson.  That  poor  old  simpleton 
really  has  brains,  in  his  own  line,  and  if  he'd  ever  had 
one  penny  to  rub  on  another  he  might  have  been  some- 
body. And  that  woman,  that  little  ridiculous  feather- 


80      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

duster, —  if  you'll  believe  ^^,  mere's  a  legend  that  when 
she  came  here  she  was  young  and  pretty  and  spirited. 
It's  the  old  story, —  married  on  nothing,  had  a  child 
every  five  minutes, —  sickness,  clothes,  food,  schooling, 
to  pay  for, —  he  with  his  head  in  the  clouds,  she  on  her 
knees  scrubbing  the  floor.  Inspiring,  isn't  it?  Now 
the  children  are  all  either  dead  or  disgraced;  and  those 
two  old  geese  are  still  scraping  and  scrimping  to  pay  up 
what  they  cost.  Pah,  it  makes  me  sick.  Give  me  an- 
other cup,  and  I'll  go  home." 

"  Poor,  poor  old  souls !  "  exclaimed  Cicely,  aghast. 
"  What  a  life !  And  —  Why,  Clarissa  !  —  they  never 
even  had  any  tea !  " 

"  Serves  them  right !  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  taking  her 
own  cup  coolly.  "  It's  their  own  silly  fault.  And 
there's  a  moral  in  that  too.  The  Jenkinsons  don't  get 
two  square  meals  in  a  week,  and  off  they  go,  their  noses 
in  the  air,  with  pate-de-foie-gras  sandwiches  just  shout- 
ing at  them  to  be  eaten.  The  Drummonds  have  a  house 
that's  simply  crammed  to  bursting  with  lusciousness ;  and 
do  they  pass  by  a  cup  of  orange  pekoe  at  five  dollars  a 
pound,  when  they  get  a  chance  at  it?  Not  they.  Come, 
I've  really  finished.  Good-bye,  love:  don't  forget  to 
write  all  these  my  laws  in  your  heart,  I  beseech  you !  " 
She  gathered  her  wraps  and  tapped  Cicely's  cheek  with 
a  light  gesture  of  farewell,  smiling  amusedly  at  her 
troubled  look. 

Cicely  stood  frowning  out  of  the  window,  while  her 
friend's  elegant  figure  trailed  leisurely  down  the  street. 
What  a  twisted  tangle  these  surroundings  of  hers  were ! 
Roger  and  the  others  thought  that  brains  were  every- 


THE  NEW  PUPIL  81 

thing;  but  the  all- wise  Clarissa  had  just  made  it  plain 
to  her  that  brains  were  a  rather  despicable  commodity, 
and  that  money,  the  conspicuous  absentee,  was  the  one 
omnipotent  power.  And  marriage,  which  she  had  sup- 
posed such  a  simple  affair  of  living  happily  ever  after, 
now  appeared  a  strange  and  doubtful  game  of  offence 
and  defence,  dangers  and  difficulties :  while  as  for  mother- 
hood,—  at  which  so  far  she  had  only  glanced  with  the 
shy,  shining  eyes  of  the  very  young  wife, —  that,  it 
seemed,  led  to  unsuspected  horrors  of  wrinkles,  poverty 
and  dowdiness.  How  curiously  complicated,  how  un- 
expectedly disturbing,  life  was !  so  many  surprising  de- 
velopments and  revelations,  such  long,  perplexing  vistas ! 
"  However,"  said  Cicely  aloud,  sighing  and  shrugging, 
and  turning  away  from  the  window,  "  that's  only  life  in 
a  college  town.  Real  life,  of  course,  is  altogether  dif- 
ferent." 


IV 

MORE    DIPLOMACY 

"  ROGER,"  said  Cicely,  looking  up  from  her  book  to  peer 
at  him,  where  he  sat  at  work  on  the  other  side  of  the  big 
reading-lamp,  "  I  want  to  have  a  dinner." 

"  All  right,  dear,"  answered  Roger,  without  looking 
up.  "  Have  one." 

"  But  I  want  to  talk  about  it !  "  said  Cicely  indig- 
nantly. "  A  dinner  is  important;  you  can't  just  settle  it 
with  a  h'm-h'm." 

Roger  patiently  pushed  back  his  papers  and  lifted  his 
head,  and  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  her  face  his  slow  smile 
dawned  and  shone.  He  had  a  special  smile  for  Cicely 
alone,  compact  of  tenderness  and  adoration;  it  lighted 
his  face  whenever  she  entered  his  presence  or  his 
thoughts,  as  a  special  strain  invades  the  music  of  an  opera 
when  a  certain  character  comes  near. 

"  Well,  if  it  must  be  talked  about,  come  here  and  talk 
about  it  properly !  "  he  said. 

Cicely  shook  her  head,  frowning  perversely.  "  How 
can  we  waste  time  sitting  on  laps,  when  there's  a  dinner 
to  be  discussed?"  she  demanded.  "Essential  things 
first;  frills  afterwards." 

"  Now   you're   Pixie,   when  you  look  like  that,"   said 
Roger,  half  to  himself;  "but  Cicely's  in  you  somewhere 
—  Cicely,  Cicely  —  the  sweetest  name  in  the  world  — 
Cicely !  " 

82 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  83 

"  Did  you  hear  me  say/'  said  Cicely  severely,  "  that  I 
was  going  to  give  a  dinner?  It  will  be  on  the  ninth  of 
November,  a  week  from  Wednesday." 

"  All  right,"  acquiesced  Roger.  "  And  the  first  peo- 
ple invited  will  be  the  Davidsons." 

"  No,"  said  Cicely  decidedly.  "  The  first  people  in- 
vited will  be  the  de  Mullens." 

"  But  why?  "  asked  Roger.  "  They're  nothing  to  us; 
we  don't  care  two  straws  about  them." 

"  We  owe  them  a  dinner,"  said  Cicely. 

Roger  frowned.  "  I  don't  hold  with  this  notion  of 
bartering  hospitality,"  he  said.  "  Our  home  is  for  our 
friends.  And  anyway,  if  it  is  a  matter  of  returning, 
Mrs.  Davidson  gave  a  reception  for  us;  and  we  went 
there  to  dinner  too." 

"  It  was  only  a  family  dinner,"  said  Cicely  calmly, 
"  and  Clarissa  says  those  don't  count.  I'll  look  after 
the  reception  later.  This  dinner  is  for  the  people  it's 
really  important  to  entertain." 

"  There's  no  one  more  important  than  the  Davidsons, 
our  dearest  friends !  "  protested  Roger.  "  Have  them 
first,  and  the  others  later." 

"  No,  I  must  have  these  immediately,"  affirmed  Cicely, 
"  because  Clarissa  is  going  to  New  York  to-morrow,  and 
coming  back  on  the  fifteenth." 

"  I  don't  see  what  that  has  to  do  with  it,"  said  Roger. 
"  Why  must  you  have  it  while  she's  gone  ?  I  thought 
you  and  she  were  such  friends." 

"  That's  just  the  reason,"  explained  Cicely.  "  I  shall 
have  to  fight  her  husband;  I  always  do;  and  I'm  so  fond 
of  her  that  I  hate  to  do  it  before  her." 


84      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Roger  laughed  with  a  hint  of  irritation.  "  That's  a 
good  reason  for  slighting  my  best  friends !  "  he  said. 
"Why  should  you  fight  Reynolds?  I'd  much  rather 
you'd  fight  his  wife;  she's  the  noxious  one." 

Cicely  stiffened  her  straight  young  back.  "  Kindly 
leave  my  friends  alone,"  she  said,  "  as  I  leave  yours. 
I  will  tell  you  my  list,  and  then  I  must  go  and  write  the 
invitations.  I  am  inviting  the  de  Mullens,  the  Simms', 
the  Reynolds',  and  the  Kaltenborns.  That  makes  eight 
at  the  table,  Mr.  Kaltenborn  and  Mrs.  Reynolds  being 
away." 

"  Cicely,  what  do  you  want  with  such  an  assemblage 
of  misfits  ?  "  asked  Roger  impatiently.  "  There's  not 
one  in  the  lot  that  we  care  for,  or  that  cares  for  us." 

"  Really,  Roger !  "  exclaimed  Cicely,  "  you  don't  show 
much  penetration !  I  am  inviting  them,  of  course,  to 
serve  your  interests;  and  I  must  say  I  don't  get  a  great 
deal  of  appreciation  for  it." 

Roger  controlled  his  rising  irritation  with  an  effort. 
"  Sweetheart,"  he  said,  "  truly,  you're  making  a  mistake. 
You  think  you're  a  dark,  deep  well,  but  as  a  matter  of 
fact  you're  a  crystal  brook.  Anybody  can  see  what 
you're  up  to,  those  people  first  of  all ;  you  can't  even  fool 
yourself  ten  minutes  running.  You  know  very  well  you'll 
tire  of  this  diplomacy  scheme  before  they  reach  the  soup. 
Give  it  up,  dear;  entertain  our  own  friends  simply  and 
sincerely,  and  don't  bother  your  precious  head  with 
double-dealing  that's  not  fit  for  it." 

Cicely  rose.  "  Roger,"  she  said  coldly,  "  I  am  not  a 
child,  and  I  know  what  I  am  about.  Have  the  goodness 
not  to  interfere  in  my  plans.  I  intend  to  help  you,  no 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  85 

matter  how  hard  you  make  it  for  me;  and  I  shall  do  it 
in  my  own  way."  Turning  away,  she  walked  with  de- 
cision to  her  desk,  and  Roger,  sighing,  settled  to  his 
papers  again. 

Cicely  wrote  her  notes  with  a  rapid,  decided  pen,  her 
dimpled  chin  set  firmly.  How  dense  men  were!  and 
Roger,  apparently,  the  densest  of  them.  It  was  for- 
tunate for  him  that  she  was  magnanimous  enough  to  serve 
him  in  spite  of  his  blindness.  She  extracted  a  glow  of 
self-satisfaction  from  this  thought,  and  warmed  herself 
at  it  as  long  as  she  could;  but  underneath,  all  the  time, 
an  uneasy  pain  rankled.  This  game  of  marriage  was  a 
strange,  tormenting  affair;  it  must  indeed  be  governed, 
as  her  counsellor  had  said,  by  the  law  of  disagreement, 
for  she  and  Roger  were  now  more  often  in  conflict  than 
in  accord.  And  yet  it  had  begun  in  such  joyful,  har- 
monious play!  She  told  herself,  biting  at  her  pen,  that 
the  fault  must  be  Roger's,  that  he  could  not  be  the  man 
she  had  supposed  him;  and  yet,  even  while  she  framed 
the  thought,  her  heart  leaped  up  in  angry  refutation, — 
more  and  more  each  day,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  petty 
frictions,  she  learned  the  greatness  of  Roger's  hidden 
beauty.  But  the  only  remaining  explanation  was  that 
she  was  to  blame;  and  that  was  obviously  absurd  and 
untenable.  She  pushed  the  whole  sore  subject  impa- 
tiently away,  and  went  to  the  piano. 

Cicely  had  always  sung.  Her  voice  was  her  natural 
means  of  expression.  But  though  it  came  from  her  as 
spontaneously  as  breathing,  and  though  technically  it 
had  been  trained  along  conventional  drawing-room  lines, 
there  was  a  strange  quality  in  it  apparently  at  variance 


86      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

with  her  whole  light  nature.  Even  in  her  gayest  moods 
a  mysterious  depth  and  gravity  pervaded  it,  and  at  times 
it  melted  suddenly  into  a  solemn  sweetness  so  poignant 
as  to  catch  at  the  throats  of  the  hearers.  In  speaking 
and  singing  it  was  a  warm  contralto,  vibrant  with  life, 
full  of  lovely  modulations  and  unexpected  cadences. 
Roger,  who  was  as  sensitive  to  sound  as  he  was  himself 
inexpressive,  loved  it  like  a  separate  entity,  passionately 
and  with  wonder.  It  stirred  his  physical  senses  almost 
to  tears;  and  it  had  for  his  spirit  a  mystical  significance; 
he  felt  it  to  be  the  real  Cicely,  the  soul  of  Cicely,  his 
visioned  Cicely  shown  forth.  But  he  could  never  tell 
the  bright  everyday  Pixie  of  his  secret  feeling. 

Now,  as  she  sang,  with  determined  gaiety,  a  sparkling 
French  chanson,  and  her  voice  melted  with  every  fall 
into  that  ineffable  grave  tenderness,  his  throat  tightened' 
and  his  hands  clenched.  "  I  want  her,  I  want  her !  " 
he  prayed  within  himself.  "  O  God,  give  me  my 
Cicely !  " 

§ 

The  invitations  to  the  dinner  were  all  accepted 
promptly:  though  most  of  the  guests  viewed  Cicely  with 
distrust,  she  was  already  so  much  of  a  social  light  that 
none  of  them  dreamed  of  slighting  her.  She  imparted 
the  news  to  Roger  with  satisfaction;  he  congratulated 
her  courteously;  and  by  tacit  agreement  (prompted  on 
her  side  by  anxiety  for  the  success  of  her  entertainment, 
and  on  his  by  the  universal  masculine  desire  for  peace 
at  any  price),  they  relegated  the  subject  to  the  back- 
ground, until  the  actual  day  of  the  event. 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  87 

"  I  suppose,  Pixie,"  said  Roger,  as  he  was  starting 
off  in  the  morning,  "  I  should  make  myself  really  useful 
if  I  didn't  come  home  to  luncheon.  There'll  be  so  much 
doing  in  the  kitchen  that  nobody '11  be  able  to  think  of 
such  a  superfluity  as  a  husband." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Cicely.  "  We  shall  go  on  just 
as  usual.  There's  nothing  extra  to  do  but  get  out  the 
silver  and  arrange  the  flowers,  and  that  won't  take  long." 

"  But  all  that  festival  grub !  "  said  Roger.  "  Why, 
Hitty  will  be  standing  on  her  head." 

"  Oh  no,  she  won't,"  contradicted  Cicely.  "  I'm  much 
too  good  a  manager  to  upset  my  house  and  starve  my 
poor  old  Badger  just  because  a  few  people  are  coming 
to  dinner.  I  put  the  whole  thing  in  the  hands  of  a 
caterer,  and  there's  not  a  thing  to  worry  about." 

"  A  caterer !  "  repeated  Roger.  "  Cicely !  Wasn't 
that  rather  —  rather  rash  ?  " 

"  No,  really,  it  wasn't,"  said  Cicely.  "  I  got  a  good 
one.  I  got  LeFils ;  he  served  that  delicious  dinner  we 
had  at  the  Drummonds',  and  Mrs.  Drummond  told  me 
she  often  calls  him  in  when  she's  short  of  servants.  We 
can  have  perfect  confidence  in  him." 

"  I  don't  doubt  that,"  said  Roger,  rather  dryly.  "  My 
only  lack  of  confidence  is  in  my  bank  account.  Have 
you  thought  to  inquire  what  the  thing  will  cost  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  have,"  said  she  proudly ;  "  I  inquired  as 
soon  as  I  had  engaged  him.  Two  dollars  and  a  half  a 
cover,  and  fifteen  dollars  for  service.  It  sounds  awfully 
cheap,  doesn't  it?  but  it's  really  good;  he  submitted  the 
menu." 

"  Thirty-five    dollars    for    one    dinner,"    said    Roger 


88      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

slowly.  "  Do  you  know  how  much  my  salary  is, 
Cicely?  " 

"  A  hundred  and  eighty  whole  dollars  a  month !  "  re- 
turned Cicely  promptly.  "  Just  think,  I  could  almost 
get  six  dinners  out  of  it!  And  another  month's  salary 
coming  in  only  two  weeks,  too." 

"  Yes,  and  out  of  that  month's  salary,"  said  Roger, 
"  food  for  our  three  selves  for  all  this  month,  and  coal, 
and  light,  and  water,  and  Kitty's  wages,  and  your  fancy 
laundress,  and  a  dozen  other  things  to  pay.  It  ought 
to  have  carried  us  through  next  month,  and  instead  it 
will  leave  us  behind-hand  with  this.  Don't  you  think, 
dear, —  couldn't  you  have  thought, —  to  consult  me  be- 
fore you  took  such  a  step  ?  " 

The  ready  flush  rose  to  Cicely's  cheeks.  "  What  a 
question,  Roger !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  took  all  the  care 
and  responsibility  of  this  dinner  to  save  you,  because  you 
were  opposed  to  it;  and  now  you  reproach  me  with  not 
having  spoken  of  it !  You  are  too  unreasonable !  " 

"  It's  wisest  and  best  to  speak  about  some  things, 
Cicely,"  said  Roger,  looking  miserable.  "  This  is  an 
expense  we  can't  afford.  You  know  very  well  that  we 
are  poor." 

"  Poor !  "  flashed  Cicely  angrily.  "  I've  been  poor  all 
my  life;  I  never  had  a  penny  but  what  my  uncle  gave 
me;  but  this  haggling,  this  stickling  at  the  barest  neces- 
sities —  I  must  say  it's  a  new  experience  for  me !  Do 
you  expect  me  to  further  your  cause  by  feeding  these 
people  on  Kitty's  fish  hash?  Do  you  think  you'll  con- 
ciliate them  by  sending  them  away  starved  ?  " 

Roger,    holding   himself   in    hand,   looked    at   her    in 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  89 

silence  for  a  moment,  and  the  logical  answer  died  on  his 
tongue.  Why  expect  reason  or  helpfulness  from  any  one 
so  lovely,  so  made  and  trained  for  ornament  alone  ?  Fet- 
tered by  the  distorted  chivalry  of  American  men,  he  fell 
without  resistance  into  that  monstrous  delusion  which 
chooses  to  make  of  the  woman  a  scented  vampire,  and 
to  arrogate  the  whole  privilege  of  sacrifice  and  service 
to  the  male. 

"  Well,  dear,"  he  said  gently,  "  it's  done.  It's  too 
late  now  to  talk;  I  won't  say  anything  more  about  it." 

"  It's  about  time  to  stop !  "  said  Cicely  bitterly.  "  I 
didn't  know  that  being  poor  made  people  begrudge  their 
families  the  common  necessities  of  life." 


The  natural  result  of  this  conversation  was  that  both 
appeared  on  the  scene  of  the  evening's  activities  at  high 
pressure,  Cicely  very  flushed,  and  Roger  rather  pale. 
Both  had  brooded  much  throughout  the  day.  Roger, 
even  while  he  strove  to  put  his  own  view-point  entirely 
aside,  had  suffered  in  the  outraging  of  his  strong  in- 
herent sense  of  justice,  and  his  idealizing  love;  and 
Cicely's  bitter  words  had  cut  deep.  As  for  Cicely,  she 
was  full  of  angry  revolt  at  the  unreasonableness  of 
Roger's  remonstrances,  and  the  evident  sordidness  of  his 
mind.  They  met  with  constraint,  and  spoke  briefly  and 
coldly  of  indifferent  matters  while  they  waited  for  their 
guests  to  arrive. 

The  first  to  come  were  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Simms ;  one  knew 
to  look  at  Mrs.  Simms  that  she  could  never  be  late. 
They  entered  the  drawing-room  exactly  three  minutes 


90      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

ahead  of  time,  the  lady  taut  and  bulging  and  perfectly 
equal  to  any  occasion,  her  lord  straggling  breathlessly 
behind  her.  It  was  an  odd  circumstance  about  this  pair 
that  Mrs.  Simms,  who  carried  some  fifty  pounds  more 
avoirdupois  than  her  Amos,  had  complete  control  of  her 
breathing  and  speaking  apparatus  even  in  moments  of 
the  greatest  stress,  while  he,  for  all  his  spidery  ease  of 
locomotion,  puffed  and  stammered  on  the  slightest  provo- 
cation,—  another  obvious  instance  of  the  ascendency  of 
mind  over  matter. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Ford!"  said  Mrs.  Simms, 
marching  up  to  Cicely  like  an  invading  army.  "  I  hope 
we're  not  too  early.  I  always  allow  five  minutes  for 
difference  in  clocks,  and  I  find  it  an  excellent  system; 
but  I  was  thrown  out  of  my  calculations  to-night  by  the 
fact  that  our  most  infallible  clock  had  run  down." 

"  It  was  my  fault,  I  fear,"  ventured  her  husband, 
offering  a  limp  hand,  "  for  having  forgotten  to  wind  it." 

"  I  did  not  intend  to  mention  the  fact,"  said  Mrs. 
Simms,  magnanimously.  "  But  it's  another  proof  of  the 
rule,  '  If  you  want  a  thing  well  done,  do  it  yourself.'  " 

The  delight  that  Cicely  always  took  in  Mrs.  Simms' 
conversation  came  to  her  aid,  and  pricked  her  into  ani- 
mation. 

"  You  couldn't  come  too  early !  "  she  assured  them. 
"  If  the  clock's  running  down  brought  you  any  sooner, 
I  shall  give  the  credit  to  Providence  and  not  to  Mr. 
Simms.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact  you've  just  allowed  me 
'  hostess's  grace.'  I  think  the  others  are  coming  in  now." 

"  I  trust  so,"  said  Mrs.  Simms  severely.  "  Unpunc- 
tuality  is  a  vice  at  the  best  of  times;  and  at  dinner,  with 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  91 

the  gravy  to  be  considered,  it  is  a  crime.  I  should  hate 
to  see  any  signs  of  it  in  the  Department." 

Under  the  pressure  of  her  accusing  glance  the  portieres 
opened,,  and  Mrs.  Kaltenborn  and  Dr.  Reynolds  appeared. 
A  more  oddly  mated  couple  could  hardly  have  been  im- 
agined,—  she  placid,  slow,  comfortably  dowdy  in  a  loose- 
girt  black  satin  gown  of  ancient  vintage,  he  keen  and 
alert,  and  modish  to  the  verge  of  foppery.  Cicely's  eyes 
danced  as  she  watched  her  arch-foe  trying  to  match  his 
impatient  stride  to  his  companion's  turtle-like  plodding. 

"  Ve  come  togedder !  "  announced  Mrs.  Kaltenborn, 
somewhat  superfluously.  ",  My  husbant,  he's  avay,  and 
Mrs.  Reynolts,  she  issn't  here,  so  Mr.  Reynolts  he  catch 
me  up  in  a  carratch." 

"  I  hope  it  won't  make  a  scandal ! "  said  Cicely. 
"  Good-evening,  Mr.  Reynolds.  I'm  so  sorry  Clarissa 
couldn't  come." 

"  Clarissa  will  hate  to  miss  it,"  said  Dr.  Reynolds 
pointedly,  meeting  Cicely's  look  with  full  appreciation 
of  the  situation.  His  eyes  held  a  conflict  of  expressions, 
—  admiration  of  her  beauty  and  charm,  hostility  to  her 
hostility :  on  deeper  knowledge  he  could  either  have  loved 
or  hated  her,  but  could  never  have  been  her  friend;  and 
she,  perceiving  this,  was  always  under  an  oddly  agree- 
able tension  of  excitement  in  his  presence. 

The  de  Mullens,  of  course,  came  last,  as  was  to  be  ex- 
pected of  such  new  devotees  of  fashion.  Mrs.  de  Mullen 
had  for  this  occasion  discarded  her  lately  acquired  stand- 
ards of  academic  simplicity, —  discerning  in  Cicely  a  foe- 
man  worthy  of  her  steel, —  and  appeared  so  plumply 
blazing  in  sequins  and  jewels  that  she  looked  like  a 


92      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

replica  of  the  noonday  sun.  Mr.  de  Mullen  followed 
inconspicuously  in  the  wake  of  his  coruscating  wife.  He 
was  a  fat,  red,  silent  little  man;  he  considered  that  he 
sustained  his  share  of  the  family  magnificence  by  pay- 
ing the  bills,  and  his  wife  shared  his  opinion. 

"  Howdy-do,  Mrs.  Ford!  Howdy-do,  Professor!  "  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  de  Mullen,  rustling  up  with  her  most  be- 
nignly regal  manner.  "  Chawmed  to  see  you !  Quite  a 
delightful  occasion,  indeed !  Quite  a  distanguy  gather- 


ing!" 

"  Since  you  adorn  it,"  said  Cicely,  "  it  can  ask  noth- 
ing more.  So  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  de  Mullen.  Shall 
we  go  in  to  dinner?  Roger,  will  you  take  Mrs.  de 
Mullen  in;  and  Mr.  Reynolds,  Mrs.  Simms;  and  Mr. 
Simms,  Mrs.  Kaltenborn;  and  Mr.  de  Mullen,  will  you 
be  so  charitable  as  to  take  me  ?  Voila  —  the  procession's 
formed,  now  the  band  can  begin  to  play." 

Roger,  who  had  greeted  all  these  unwelcome  guests 
with  cold  formality,  offered  his  arm  in  silence  to  Mrs. 
de  Mullen.  He  hated  the  whole  affair, —  the  intriguing 
intention  of  it,  the  inappropriate  display,  the  discord  it 
had  brought  between  him  and  Cicely:  and  his  strong  and 
rather  stubborn  nature  refused  to  pretend  a  cordiality  it 
did  not  feel.  As  the  guests  fell  into  line  behind  him, 
the  chill  of  his  demeanour  infected  them  vaguely,  and  they 
all  became  silent  too ;  the  men  shared,  to  a  certain  extent, 
his  masculine  dislike  of  this  kind  of  thing,  and  the 
women  were  busy  noting  the  variety  and  expensiveness 
of  the  flowers  that  filled  the  little  house.  The  only  con- 
versationalists on  the  short  journey  across  the  hall  were 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  93 

Mr.  de  Mullen,  who  inquired  of  his  hostess  the  where- 
abouts of  the  band  of  which  she  had  spoken,  and  Cicely, 
who  explained  that  her  language  had  been  figurative. 

However,  the  little  bustle  of  seating  the  guests,  and  the 
cheering  atmosphere  of  a  dinner-table  expressly  equipped 
for  festivity,  dissipated  the  first  slight  chill  before  it  be- 
came oppressive.  Mrs.  de  Mullen's  renewed  volubility 
covered  Roger's  silence,  and  Cicely's  gaiety  animated  her 
own  neighbourhood.  The  waiters  moved  with  quiet- 
footed  deftness,  the  food  was  perfection ;  the  guests, 
though  they  viewed  this  lavish  hospitality  with  varying 
emotions  of  astonishment,  admiration  and  disapproval, 
united  in  giving  it  an  appreciative  reception;  and  Cicely, 
assuring  herself  that  the  success  of  the  affair  was  now 
certain,  gave  up  all  anxiety  by  the  time  the  fish  arrived, 
and  addressed  her  energies  to  the  conquest  of  Mr.  de 
Mullen. 

"  I've  been  very  much  interested  to  hear  from  Mrs.  de 
Mullen  of  your  building  plans,"  she  said,  turning  towards 
him  with  seductively  charming  enthusiasm. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  replied  Mr.  de  Mullen,  politely  but 
noncommittally. 

"  It  must  be  great  fun  to  build  a  house,"  suggested 
Cicely.  "  I  should  like  to  try  it." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Mr.  de  Mullen,  without  emotion. 

"  Which  did  you  enjoy  most,  making  the  plans  or  see- 
ing them  carried  out?  "  persisted  Cicely  courageously. 

Mr.  de  Mullen  hesitated,  but  her  eyes  lured  him  irre- 
sistibly to  confidences.  With  a  reckless  impulse  he  cast 
aside  his  carefully  inculcated  discretion.  "  Well,"  he 


94      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

confessed,  "  fact  is,  I  haven't  had  much  satisfaction  out 
o'  neither  one.  I'm  not  strong  on  culture,  like  Mrs. 
M. —  de  M.,  I  should  say." 

"  You'd  rather  have  simplicity  and  comfort,  wouldn't 
you?  "  said  Cicely,  gazing  on  him  with  large  sympathetic 
eyes. 

"  That's  it  exactly !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  de  Mullen,  ex- 
panding under  this  unusual  comprehension.  "  I  like  a 
good  plain  house  where  a  man  can  sit  around  com- 
fterble,  without  kickin'  over  gimcracks  every  time  he 
budges.  Now  Mrs.  M. —  de  M.,  that  is  —  when  she  fixes 
up  a  house  she  does  it  tasty,  with  Venus  de  Midas  in  one 
corner  and  Venus  de  Medicine  in  the  other,  and  a  china 
dog  in  between.  I  know  it's  Art;  but  between  you  and 
me  I  don't  care  shucks  about  it." 

"  I  get  your  point  of  view,"  said  Cicely,  "  and  I  be- 
lieve I  agree  with  you." 

"  You  don't  say !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  de  Mullen.  "  Why, 
I  thought  all  ladies  liked  style."  He  regarded  her  for 
a  moment  with  a  puzzled  look,  obviously  wondering 
whether  she  could  be  as  truly  cultured  as  he  had  sup- 
posed; then,  accepting  her  as  a  kindred  spirit,  plunged 
deeper  into  confidences.  "  Well,  Mrs.  M.,  she  didn't 
use  to  be  so  tasty.  Time  was  when  a  nice  plush  rocker 
with  a  lace  tidy  on  it  was  fancy  enough  for  her.  But 
when  she  once  got  started  with  those  artchitect  fellers 
there  was  no  holdin'  her;  and  now  it's  perglers  outside 
and  freskers  in,  till  you  can't  scarcely  find  a  place  to  sit." 

"Drove  you  out  of  the  kitchen,  did  they?"  inquired 
Cicely  sympathetically. 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  95 

"  Gosh,  yes !  years  ago,"  said  Mr.  de  Mullen.  "  And 
to  tell  the  truth,  I  haven't  known  what  solid  comfort  was 
since.  When  our  chatter  gets  done — " 

"  Our  shottoe !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  de  Mullen  sharply, 
from  the  other  end  of  the  table. 

Cicely  turned  in  surprise  at  the  interruption,  and  looked 
quickly  for  its  cause.  It  was  not  far  to  seek.  Roger, 
looking  around  the  table  in  a  conscientious  effort  to  play 
his  part  as  host,  had  caught  Mrs.  Simms  telegraphing  to 
Mrs.  Kaltenborn  her  amazement  at  all  this  luxury.  An- 
noyed and  disapproving  as  he  already  was,  the  realisa- 
tion of  the  covert  comment  that  was  going  on  around  him 
had  resolved  his  mood  into  one  of  shamed  anger,  and  he 
had  frozen  into  rigid  silence.  Now  his  disaffection, 
making  itself  felt  by  his  neighbours,  was  spreading  in  a 
visible  blight;  on  his  one  side  Mrs.  de  Mullen,  bursting 
with  bottled  conversation,  sat  red  and  indignant;  on  the 
other  Mrs.  Kalternborn,  displeased  but  placid,  chewed  in 
cow-like  silence;  and  the  chill,  creeping  steadily,  had 
begun  to  engulf  the  remoter  diners  as  well.  Cicely  flung 
him  an  indignant  glance,  and  hurried  to  the  rescue. 

"  Mrs.  de  Mullen,"  she  said,  "  have  you  told  my  hus- 
band about  your  researches  into  the  subject  of  French 
architecture?  " 

"  I  have  not,  Mrs.  Ford,"  replied  Mrs.  de  Mullen 
majestically. 

"  Do  tell  him  now,"  urged  Cicely.  "  He'd  be  so  in- 
terested." 

"  If  the  Professor  would  be  interested,"  said  Mrs.  de 
Mullen  severely,  "  I  should  be  pleased  to  decant  to  him 


96      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

on  that  or  any  other  subject,  in  the  cause  of  sociability." 

"  He'd  be  charmed/'  asseverated  Cicely.  "  Tell  him 
about  your  study  of  the  Norman." 

Mrs.  de  Mullen  turned  her  head  on  its  substantial 
pivot,  and,  fixing  Roger  with  a  stern  eye,  opened  fire. 
"  Having  gone  deeply  into  the  Norman,  Professor,"  she 
began,  "  I  find  it  is  not  called  Norman  at  all  by  the  real 
connosures.  They  pronounce  it  Romanesky.  At  the 
same  time,  I  do  not  feel,  personally,  that  the  Romans  had 
anything  to  do  with  it,  as  they  died  before  the  Normans 
were  born.  William  the  Conqueror, —  an  ancestor  of 
mine,  ong  passong  — " 

Cicely  turned  back  to  her  neighbour,  dimpling.  "  I 
suppose  your  wife  is  so  well  informed  on  these  matters," 
she  said,  "  that  she  could  talk  about  them  all  the  evening." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  she  could,"  said  Mr.  de  Mullen,  with  a 
sigh. 

Cicely's  dimples  deepened.  "  I  judge  you're  not  pas- 
sionately attached  to  French  architecture  yourself,"  she 
suggested. 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Ford,"  said  the  little  fat  millionaire,  with 
sudden  tragic  earnestness,  "I'm  a  quiet  man,  but  I  get 
so  sick  o'  those  words, —  Rennysance,  and  Ompeer,  and 
Louis  Cat-horse, —  that  sometimes  I'm  ready  to  set  fire 
to  the  whole  business, —  chatter  and  artchitects  and  books 
and  all !  " 

"  It  wouldn't  do  you  any  good,"  said  Cicely  compas- 
sionately. 

"  No'm,  I  know  it,"  said  Mr.  de  Mullen,  lapsing  into 
despondency.  "  We're  in  for  a  chatter,  and  a  chatter 
we  will  have.  When  I  see  those  artchitect  fellers  strut- 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  97 

tin'  around  destroyin'  men's  peace  and  women's  quiet,  I 
wonder  the  Lord  lets  'em  live." 

"  Oh  well/'  said  Cicely,  "  there  are  worse  things  than 
building,  you  know." 

"  Yes ;  it  might  be  slummin' ;  or  votes/'  mused  Mr.  de 
Mullen ;  "  or  microbes, —  one  friend  o'  mine's  wife  took 
up  microbes  so  violent  that  'twas  as  much  as  his  life  was 
worth  to  smoke  his  pipe,  without  it'd  ben  boiled  first. 
And  o'  course  there's  always  the  heathen.  But  on  the 
whole,  I  do'  know  as  there's  anythin'  much  worse  to  live 
with,  day  in  and  day  out,  than  a  chatter." 

"  Mr.  de  Mullen/'  interrupted  the  voice  of  the  cough- 
drop  queen,  trembling  with  suppressed  indignation,  "  you 
will  do  well  to  refrain  from  talking  about  the  shottoe, 
until  you  have  learned  to  pronounce  it ! " 

Cicely,  with  a  shrug,  abandoned  her  conversation  and 
glanced  around  again.  Mrs.  de  Mullen  had  already  come 
to  another  deadlock  with  Roger,  and,  balked  and  out- 
raged, was  glaring  furiously  at  her  erring  husband.  He, 
already  depressed,  repented  of  his  unwonted  volubility, 
and  subsided  into  silence.  The  other  guests  were  speak- 
ing hardly  a  word;  Dr.  Simms  looked  dejected,  Dr. 
Reynolds  sardonic;  with  each  journey  of  the  quiet  waiters 
Mrs.  Simms'  disapproving  eyebrows  climbed  higher.  It 
was  evident  that  the  diplomatic  dinner  was  not  following 
the  course  laid  out  for  it. 

Cicely  flashed  another  angry  look  at  her  husband,  and 
turned  her  attention  to  his  other  neighbour.  Mrs.  Kal- 
tenborn,  unlike  Mrs.  de  Mullen,  did  not  suffer  in  the  least 
from  suppressed  social  activity;  though  she  was  ready 
enough  to  be  displeased  with  Roger,  it  was  all  one  to 


98      THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

her,  when  she  was  absorbing  such  an  excellent  dinner  as 
this,  whether  anybody  talked  or  not.  Cicely's  hostess- 
ambition  had  but  a  doubtful  ally  in  this  placidly  gorging 
lady.  However,  there  was  no  choice.  She  reflected  for 
a  moment,  and  then  plunged  boldly  into  the  sea  of  silence 
and  plucked  Mrs.  Kaltenborn  out  by  the  hair. 

"  Mrs.  Kaltenborn,"  she  said,  "  I  wish  you'd  tell  Roger 
how  those  delicious  German  cakes  of  yours  are  made. 
We  must  have  some;  and  /  shouldn't  remember  two 
minutes." 

She  had  shrewdly  struck  the  one  responsive  note. 
Mrs.  Kaltenborn  reluctantly  laid  down  her  fork  and 
turned  to  Roger,  her  German-housewifely  zeal  kindling 
in  her  eyes.  "  Veil,  you  take  first  a  half-a-cup  of  butter 
and  varm  it  a  liddle,"  she  said,  "  and  vork  it  vit  de 
hand,  so ;  and  den  you  plunch  your  two  hands  in  de  sugar- 
bucket,  like  dis,  and  bring  up  so  much."  She  interrupted 
herself  to  glance  at  Cicely  with  placid  scorn.  "  Vill  you 
make  dem  yourself,  Professor,  or  can  you  teach  de  hired 
girl  ?  "  she  asked. 

Cicely's  eyes  danced  again  at  this  promising  beginning, 
and,  feeling  the  conversation  safe  for  a  few  minutes 
more,  she  turned  her  attention  to  the  other  objects  of  her 
diplomacy.  At  once,  as  she  glanced  around  the  table, 
she  encountered  the  gaze  of  her  chief  adversary  fixed  on 
her  with  that  mingling  of  fascination  and  irritation  which 
always  stirred  her  to  a  subtle  fever.  Their  eyes  struck 
a  spark  as  they  met,  and  Cicely's  travelled  no  further. 

"  Mr.  Reynolds,"  she  said,  "  I  have  hardly  heard  your 
voice  to-night.  Clarissa's  absence  makes  you  silent." 

"  It  is  rather,"  said  he,  bowing  to  her  ironically  over 


99 

his  glass,  "  excess  of  joy  in  finding  myself  at  your  board. 
You  are  giving  us  a  most  impressive  entertainment." 

"  I  trust,"  said  Cicely,  unable  to  keep  from  challenging 
him,  "  it  appeals  as  strongly  to  your  intellect  as  to  your 
gastronomy !  " 

"  How  could  it  fail  to,"  he  inquired,  "  with  you  pres- 
ent? " 

Cicely  kindled  into  rashness.  "  Oh,  my  part  in  your 
entertainment  has  been  negligible  so  far,"  she  said,  "  but 
I  intend  to  contribute  some  little  item  before  you  go." 

Reynolds  kindled  too.  "  Kindly  let  me  know,"  he  re- 
turned, "  when  you  are  ready  to  begin.  Forewarned  is 
fore-armed." 

"  Two  arms  are  arms  enough  for  you !  "  countered 
Cicely,  her  eyes  beginning  to  sparkle  with  excitement. 
"  I'm  the  one  who  needs  four.  We  hear  a  lot  about 
'  arms  and  the  man,'  but  nobody  ever  seems  to  think  the 
woman  needs  arming." 

"  A  lady's  arms,"  ventured  Dr.  Simms,  entering  the 
conversation  so  unexpectedly  that  its  participants  jumped, 
"  are  more  powerful  than  any  weapons." 

"  Amos !  "  said  Mrs.  Simms  severely.  "  Don't  talk 
nonsense !  " 

"  It's  the  truth,  my  dear,"  avowed  Dr.  Simms, — 
flushed,  but  firmly  perched  on  his  startling  height  of 
gallantry.  "  I  know  it  is  not  always  a  literal  fact, — 
though  your  own  arms  would  go  far  to  establish  that 
claim  as  well, —  but  it  must  be  granted  that  the  moral 
and  spiritual  potency  of  arms  like  —  er  —  our  hostess's 
—  is  —  er  —  inestimable." 

"  Amos  Simms,"  said  his  lady  indignantly,  "  it's  well 


100     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

you're  in  a  company  where  you're  known  as  a  scientist, 
or  somebody 'd  be  arresting  you  for  unsound  mind !  " 

At  this,  suddenly  and  sharply  another  unexpected  voice 
spoke  up  from  across  the  table.  "  Veil,"  it  said,  "  I  say 
dis  for  his  mind,  it  sounds  louder  dan  some  odder  minds 
here  present !  "  And  lo,  Mrs.  Kalternborn, —  done  with 
her  precious  recipe,  and  waiting  in  vain  for  Roger's  grati- 
tude,—  frowned  upon  them  in  an  indignation  so  profound 
that  she  was  forgetting  to  eat. 

With  this  last  interruption,  suddenly  Cicely's  whole 
mood  flared  up  in  angry  revolt.  She  looked  at  the  circle 
of  faces, —  every  one  stamped  with  some  shade  of  dis- 
satisfaction or  chagrin, —  and  at  Roger,  the  storm-centre 
of  all  that  social  wreck,  sitting  stark  and  stony  in  the 
midst.  This  was  the  man  she  was  trying  to  serve,  and 
this  his  manner  of  requiting  her  service!  Very  well, 
then !  She  had  finished.  Let  Roger  take  care  of  his 
own  interests,  and  ruin  himself  as  he  pleased. 

Completely  abandoning  all  concern,  she  hurried  the 
meal  to  a  conclusion,  and  jumped  to  her  feet  so  suddenly 
that  the  glowering  guests  all  turned  to  her  open- 
mouthed.  "  I  hate  to  break  up  this  interchange  of  soul !  " 
she  said  ironically,  "  but  I  see  the  men  longing  for  cigars 
and  confidences,  and  we  women  must  have  our  little 
secrets.  Let  us  go ! "  And,  recklessly  indifferent  to 
results,  she  led  her  feminine  cohorts  rapidly  from  the 
room,  and  left  Roger  silent  and  grim  in  the  midst  of  his 
sulky  adversaries. 

As  she  reached  the  drawing-room,  however,  and  sur- 
veyed the  glum  faces  of  her  followers,  a  spirit  of  dare- 
devil mischief  took  possession  of  Cicely.  If  the  occa- 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  101 

sion  was  a  failure,  at  least  she  would  extract  some 
amusement  from  it;  she  did  not  care  now  what  the  con- 
sequences might  be.  Sparkling  maliciously,  she  drew 
the  smallest  of  her  chairs  into  an  intimate  circle,  and 
installed  her  plump  guests  upon  them,  and  her  own  slim 
person  in  the  middle. 

"  Isn't  this  sweet,  to  be  so  cosy!  "  she  cooed.  "  Now, 
let's  talk  about  clothes.  I  hear  the  jupe-culotte  is  go- 
ing to  be  tried  again  this  winter;  shall  you  adopt  it, 
Mrs.  Simms?  " 

"  Xo,  Mrs.  Ford,  I  shall  not !  "  said  Mrs.  Simms,  sit- 
ting very  stiff  and  straight  on  her  narrow  chair.  "  Those 
Paris  fashions  have  no  seductions  for  me,  I  am  happy  to 
say !  " 

"  Xo  —  really?"  returned  Cicely.  "What  a  pity! 
With  your  figure,  it  would  be  so  striking.  Thin  people 
like  me  have  no  chance  at  those  marked  effects.  There's 
Mrs.  de  Mullen's  beautiful  gown;  how  I  wish  I  had  a 
gown  like  that !  —  but  how  should  I  look  in  it  ?  —  like  a 
ton  of  sequins,  and  nothing  more !  " 

Mrs.  de  Mullen,  touched  in  a  tender  spot,  emerged  a 
little  from  her  cloud  of  displeasure.  "  I'm  glad  you  like 
it,"  she  said  with  complacence.  "  I  think  myself  it  is 
quite  retchitchay.  I  am  thinking  of  ordering  a  dozen 
sequinated  gowns  in  different  colours,  to  wear  with  the 
various  apartments  of  my  shottoe." 

"  How  original !  "  said  Cicely  admiringly.  "  Would 
you  spend  the  whole  evening  in  one  spot,  or  change  as 
you  went  from  room  to  room?  It  would  be  so  interest- 
ing for  your  guests  to  watch  you  cross  a  threshold !  " 

Mrs.  de  Mullen  bridled.     "  I  shall  find  some  wav  to 


102     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

circumscribe  that  difficulty/'  she  said  haughtily.  "  I 
have  never  appeared  in  public  au  naturel,  and  I  never 
intend  to."  She  began  to  execute  a  queenly  shrug,  but 
her  little  chair  creaked  ominously,  and  she  forbore. 

"  Veil,  I  don't  haf  to  bodder  vit  clo'es,"  said  Mrs. 
Kaltenborn  comfortably;  cheered  by  coffee,  she  had  re- 
gained something  of  her  usual  placidity.  "  I  got  goot 
clo'es  now.  Look  at  dis  dress;  I  got  it  tirty  years  yet, 
and  it  come  arount  again  in  style  tree  times  alretty." 

"  Fancy  being  able  to  wear  the  same  bodice  thirty 
years !  "  exclaimed  Cicely.  "  How  do  you  do  it  —  by 
diet?  " 

"  Veil,  partly ;  ven  I  had  it  ten  years  first,  I  dyed  it," 
said  Mrs.  Kaltenborn  reflectively.  "  First  time  it  vas 
yellow,  now  I  got  it  black.  I  tink  anodder  year  maybe  I 
get  it  trimmed  vit  yellow  again;  it's  vearing  out  arount 
de  bottom  alretty." 

"  When  you  get  through  with  it,  I  wish  you'd  bequeath 
it  to  me,"  said  Cicely.  "  I'd  love  to  have  such  a  tried 
and  true  friend.  My  dresses  hardly  last  me  thirty  min- 
utes." 

"  I  should  think  that  was  as  much  as  could  be  ex- 
pected of  such  dresses  !"  remarked  Mrs.  Simms,  with  a 
withering  glance  at  Cicely's  shoulders  gleaming  through 
white  tulle.  "  What  keeps  you  from  a  consumptive's 
grave  I  can't  imagine." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  very  strong  on  consumption !  "  said 
naughty  Cicely,  "  as  you  can  tell  by  my  figure.  I  wish 
I  could  take  lessons  from  some  solider  ladies." 

"  Humph !  "  said  Mrs.  Simms  indignantly ;  and  she  too 
embarked  upon  a  scornful  shrug,  and  was  checked,  as 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  103 

Mrs.  de  Mullen  had  been,  by  the  creaking  of  her  chair. 
The  other  two,  though  slower  of  mind,  comprehended 
that  some  veiled  disrespect  had  been  cast  at  them,  and 
subsided  into  sulks.  Cicely  herself  was  too  full  of  in- 
ward laughter  to  speak;  and  so  for  a  space  a  pregnant 
silence  reigned. 

At  this  propitious  moment  the  men  stalked, —  Indian- 
file,  morose  and  glum, —  into  the  room.  Cicely,  all  alight 
now  with  mischief,  hailed  them  gleefully.  "  Welcome 
to  our  city !  "  she  cried.  "  How  flattering  of  you  to 
leave  your  hilarity  so  soon!  We  were  just  going  to  talk 
complexions;  do  join  us."  She  jumped  up  as  she  spoke, 
rearranging  the  group  perversely  and  skilfully:  Dr. 
Reynolds  was  seated  by  Mrs.  de  Mullen,  Roger  was 
flanked  by  Dr.  Simms  and  the  lozenge  king,  and  Cicely 
herself  slipped  between  Mrs.  Simms  and  Mrs.  Kalten- 
born,  who  still  perched  precariously  on  their  little  chairs. 
What  slight  chance  of  sociability  there  might  have  been 
was  thus  effectually  annihilated;  and  she  surveyed  the 
glum  result  with  eyes  in  which  recklessness  danced  visi- 
bly. 

"  What,  no  contributions  on  the  subject  of  com- 
plexions?" she  said.  "Then  we  must  try  the  weather. 
Very  warm  for  the  time  of  year,  isn't  it?  " 

No  one  offered  any  reply.  Dr.  Simms  opened  his 
mouth,  but  was  quelled  by  the  stern  eye  of  his  spouse; 
Mr.  de  Mullen  was  too  depressed  for  further  conversa- 
tional efforts;  the  women  were  all  sulking;  and  Dr. 
Reynolds,  though  amused  in  spite  of  himself,  was  furi- 
ously angry.  Oddly  enough,  Roger  alone, —  courteous, 
considerate  Roger, —  looked  at  his  wicked  wife  with  ap- 


104     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

proval:  attributing  to  her  his  own  single-mindedness,  lie 
thought  she  was  showing  these  people  that  she  would 
cajole  them  no  more  with  false  friendship,  and  he  re- 
joiced in  the  change. 

Cicely  caught  Reynolds'  intense  gaze  of  warring  anger 
and  admiration,  and  responded  with  a  fresh  upleaping  of 
rashness.  "  Oh,  Dr.  Reynolds,"  she  said,  "  we  haven't 
had  our  little  conversazione,  have  we?  Let's  begin 
now;  it's  charming  to  talk  soul  to  soul,  surrounded  by 
sympathetic  ears." 

"  Very  well !  "  said  Dr.  Reynolds  shortly ;  he  knew  as 
well  as  she  that  an  encounter  in  this  surcharged  atmos- 
phere meant  disaster,  but  was  unable  to  resist  her. 
"  What's  the  subject?  " 

"  Oh,  any  thing  is  interesting  between  friends !  "  said 
Cicely.  "  Politics, —  or  the  stage, —  or  —  what's  nearest 
our  hearts  —  the  Department !  " 

Everybody  started,  and  Roger,  with  a  warning  cough, 
tried  to  catch  her  eye.  "  Politics !  "  he  said  hastily. 
"  That's  what  we  are  all  most  interested  in." 

"  To  be  sure  —  Department  politics !  "  said  Cicely,  dis- 
regarding the  warning,  and  rushing  ahead  full  tilt. 
"  What  do  you  think  is  the  best  way  of  running  a  de- 
partment such  as  ours,  Dr.  Reynolds?  I  assume  that 
you  feel  well  fitted  to  judge." 

Reynolds  sat  up  with  a  brusque  movement.  Even  he 
had  not  expected  such  thin  ice  as  this;  and  yet  he  found 
something  gallant  in  her  recklessness,  and  could  not  keep 
his  admiration  out  of  his  eyes.  "  I  should  say,"  he  re- 
torted, taking  up  her  challenge,  "  that  the  first  rule  would 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  105 

be  to  get  the  women  out  of  the  way,  and  keep  them  where 
they  can't  possibly  put  their  spoons  into  the  broth !  " 

"  Tie  up  the  women !  "  exclaimed  Cicely.  "  But  that's 
going  back  to  the  Dark  Ages !  Why,  where  would  men 
and  politics  be  now  without  women?  Where  would  you 
be  without  Clarissa?  " 

"  In  about  the  same  place,"  said  he,  looking  at  her 
steadily,  "  that  Ford  would  be  in  without  you." 

"  And  that  is  — "  began  Cicely  incautiously. 

"  In  the  Bachelor  Flats  on  Juniper  Street !  "  inter- 
rupted Roger.  "  A  very  good  place  to  be  out  of,  as 
every  married  man  knows.  Cicely,  won't  you  sing  us 
something?  "  For  although  he  was  loath  to  share  the 
treasure  of  her  voice  with  these  alien  spirits,  he  felt  that 
further  conversation  must  be  prevented  at  all  costs. 

"  I  might  sing  '  I  Dreamed  I  Dwelt  in  Marble  Halls/  " 
she  said,  looking  maliciously  at  her  adversary. 

"  Or  you  might  sing  '  It  Was  but  Idle  Dreaming/  "  he 
returned,  his  eyes  snapping  with  responsive  malice. 

"  Or,"  flashed  Cicely,  completely  oblivious  now  of  all 
prudence,  "  of  course  there's  '  The  Last  Hope  ' !  And 
I  could  finish  with  '  Farewell  Forever.'  " 

Reynolds  bounded  out  of  his  chair,  anger  completely 
gaining  the  upper  hand  of  amusement.  "  I'll  save  you 
the  trouble,  and  say  farewell  now ! "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Thank  you  for  a  most  stimulating  evening.  Good 
night,  Ford."  He  strode  out  in  a  white  heat  of  wrath, 
entirely  forgetting  the  plump  lady  in  his  charge. 

His  departure  was  the  signal  for  the  guests, —  bottling 
various  degrees  of  indignation,  to  accord  with  the  vary- 


106     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

ing  degrees  of  their  perceptiveness, —  to  rise  by  a  com- 
mon impulse,  and  utter  their  cold  farewells.  Not  all 
could  have  told  why  they  were  angry,  yet  angry  they  all 
were,  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  de  Mullen, —  who,  being 
little  accustomed  to  social  affairs  among  the  aristocracy 
of  intellect,  supposed  that  this  one  had  followed  the 
usual  order.  Cicely,  jumping  up  with  alacrity,  stood  by 
the  drawing-room  door  and  sped  their  parting  with  no 
pretence  of  regret,  pricking  each  one  with  a  winged  shaft 
of  malice.  "  Good-bye,  Mrs.  Simms, —  do  come  again, 
and  bring  your  husband !  Good-bye,  Mrs.  de  Mullen ;  let 
me  know  when  you  get  your  series  of  lightning-change 
costumes  ready, —  I  want  to  see  you  do  it !  Good-bye, 
Mrs.  Kaltenborn;  I'm  going  to  live  on  those  cakes  of 
yours,  and  see  if  /  can't  get  a  permanent  figure !  "  So  the 
mocking  imp  in  her  laughed  at  them  and  at  herself, 
heedless  and  wanton.  Yet  strangely,  when  she  found 
herself  saying  farewell  to  the  little  pudgy  millionaire, 
whom  she  had  docketed  as  the  least  notice-worthy  of  the 
lot,  a  tardy  pang  of  conscience  smote  her.  The  tight  grasp 
of  his  hand  penetrated  through  her  armour  of  wilfulness, 
and  touched  the  living  Cicely  within;  he  looked  at  her 
with  eyes  of  genuine  devotion,  and  before  his  earnest, 
humble  look,  she  dropped  her  own  with  a  hot  sense  of 
shame. 

The  last  guest  was  gone.  Roger,  coming  to  her  side, 
looked  at  her  half-disapprovingly,  half-tenderly.  "  Well, 
naughty  child !  "  he  said.  "  You've  amused  yourself, 
haven't  you?  " 

Cicely   turned   away   from  him.     The   sparkle   of  her 


MORE  DIPLOMACY  107 

mischief  was  dying  in  her  like  bubbles  in  stale  cham- 
pagne, and  she  was  sick  of  it  all.  "  Oh,  don't^  talk  to 
me !  "  she  said.  "  What  a  fool,  what  a  beast,  I  am !  " 

Roger  smiled  at  her  vehemence.  "  You're  a  wicked 
little  Pixie,"  he  said,  "  and  you've  certainly  behaved  very 
badly  to-night;  but  you  did  it  to  please  me,  and  I  for- 
give you  willingly." 

"  You  forgive  me !  "  cried  Cicely.  "  What  have  you 
to  forgive  me  for?  I  plan  for  you,  worry  for  you,  work 
for  you, —  and  you  reward  me  by  wrecking  everything 
I  accomplish, —  and  then,  when  I  give  up  and  let  it  stay 
wrecked,  you  come  talking  to  me  of  forgiveness !  "  She 
whirled  round  upon  him  again,  her  sense  of  injury,  shame 
and  anger  at  herself,  and  the  tension  of  over-strung 
nerves,  all  whipping  her  into  passion. 

"  Why,  Cicely !  Why  —  Cicely  — !  "  stammered 
Roger,  appalled.  "  What  do  you  mean?  Didn't  you  give 
up  your  plan  because  I  hated  it?  Weren't  you  helping 
me  to  stand  on  my  own  feet?  " 

"Helping  you!"  said  Cicely  hotly.  "I'm  done  with 
helping  you!  I  could  help  you  till  I  died,  and  never 
get  anything  but  ingratitude  for  it.  Hereafter  you  may 
help  yourself!  " 

"  Cicely !  "  gasped  Roger,  growing  very  white.  "  Do 
you  mean  me  to  understand  — " 

"  Understand  what  you  will !  "  flamed  Cicely.  "  I'm 
done  with  it,  I  tell  you !  I'm  done,  I'm  done !  "  And, 
flying  away  from  his  outstretched  arms,  she  ran  blindly 
up  the  stairs,  a  fierce  whirlwind  of  passion. 

So  ended  this  diplomatic  episode:  with  the  guests  has- 


108     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

tening  homeward  ruffled  and  resentful ;  Roger  white,  rigid 
and  aghast  in  the  hall;  and  Cicely  sobbing  her  wild  heart 
out  on  her  pillow.  It  was  a  large  result  for  a  fledgling 
diplomat. 


AN    ADVENTURE    IN    ARCADY 

THE  days  passed,  and  Cicely's  disastrous  diplomacy 
passed  with  them  into  history.  Roger  and  Cicely  had 
apologized,  had  kissed  again  and  taken  up  their  daily  life 
as  before.  Cicely  had  exercised  all  her  witchery,  and 
soothed  and  smoothed  her  ruffled  guests  into  some  sem- 
blance of  amicability.  But  suspicion  lurked  in  the 
glances  of  Mrs.  Simms  and  Mrs.  de  Mullen;  the  men 
opposed  Roger  openly  at  every  turn;  and  in  Roger  and 
Cicely's  house  of  life  there  was  one  more  pale  ghost, 
prowling  unsleeping  behind  a  door  that  would  not  lock. 
Towards  the  end  of  November,  when  the  earth  had 
cowered  into  passive  readiness  for  winter,  there  came 
straight  out  of  heaven  a  summer  morning  steeped  in  sun- 
shine,—  one  of  those  golden  Indian-summer  days  that 
fill  the  mind  with  a  sense  of  things  precious  and  fleeting, 
and  call  the  invitation  of  out-of-doors  more  imperatively 
than  spring  itself.  Cicely,  rising  jaded  and  weary  in 
spirit,  heard  a  belated  bird-song,  and  looked  out  to  see 
the  stiff  brown  oak-leaves  shining  on  the  branches;  and 
a  well  of  young  hope  and  happiness  gushed  warmly  up 
within  her.  She  dressed  rapidly,  and,  hurrying  down- 
stairs with  brighter  eyes  and  cheeks  than  she  had  worn 
for  many  a  day,  ran  to  Roger  with  hands  outstretched  as 
she  used  to  do  before  the  ghosts  came. 

109 


110    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Oh,  what  a  day,  Badger !  "  she  cried.  "  We'll  drop 
everything,  won't  we,  and  go  a-Novembering !  I'll  tell 
Hitty  to  make  us  up  a  lunch,  and  we'll  wander  in  the 
woods,  and  camp  in  a  little  dell,  just  the  way  we  used 
to." 

Roger  kissed  the  hands  and  fed  his  eyes  on  the  bright 
face,  but  he  shook  his  head  reluctantly.  "  I'd  love  to, 
dearest,"  he  said,  "  better  than  anything  in  the  world. 
But  I  can't;  I'm  not  free." 

"  Why  not?  "  demanded  Cicely,  drawing  a  little  away 
from  him.  "  It's  Saturday;  you  have  no  classes." 

"  I  know,"  said  Roger,  "  but  I've  promised  the  morn- 
ing to  some  fellows  I'm  coaching." 

"  Let  them  go !  "  said  Cicely. 

"  I  can't,  Pixie,"  said  Roger.  "  If  it  were  any  one 
else  I  would,  joyfully;  but  these  are  fellows  who  are 
working,  and  can't  get  any  free  time  but  this." 

Cicely  withdrew  her  hands  brusquely,  and  moved  away 
to  look  at  him.  The  working  students  were  an  old  thorn 
in  her  flesh;  more  than  once  they  had  interfered  with 
her  plans,  and  Roger's  devotion  to  them  pricked  her  to 
jealousy.  "Roger!"  she  said  sharply.  "You  don't 
mean  to  tell  me  you  are  giving  up  your  few  free  hours, 
and  my  pleasure,  for  those  filthy  janitors?  " 

"  I  don't  like  your  phrase,  Cicely,"  said  Roger,  his 
voice  changing  a  little.  "  I'm  helping,  in  a  very  small 
way,  some  fine  courageous  men  who  are  my  friends." 

"  And,  as  usual,  you  prefer  their  society  to  mine,"  said 
Cicely  bitterly. 

"  Oh,  Cicely !  "  said  Roger.  He  was  silent  for  a  mo- 
ment, then  said  simply,  "  I  promised  them." 


AN  ADVENTURE  IN  ARCADY     111 

Cicely  flushed  hotly,  but  turned  to  another  issue. 
"  Who  pays  you  for  this?  "  she  demanded. 

Roger  began  to  look  stern.  "  Is  there  no  reward  but 
money?  "  he  asked.  "  Isn't  there  such  a  thing  as  doing 
for  the  pleasure  of  the  deed  ?  " 

"  Not  in  your  work,"  said  Cicely.  "  You're  entirely 
too  much  of  a  philanthropist  at  best.  Dr.  Davidson  told 
me  that,  with  your  ability,  you  could  be  making  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  a  year  in  business." 

"What  if  I  could?"  said  Roger  stubbornly.  "I'm 
working  for  something  better  than  money,  as  every 
teacher  is.  Your  business  man  may  get  a  fortune;  I  get 
the  happiness  of  serving  science,  and  making  citizens." 

"  Yes,  and  that's  a  great  help  in  buying  daily  bread !  " 
said  Cicely.  "  We  go  without  most  of  the  necessities  of 
life  so  that  you  can  give  yourself  to  this  institution  (that's 
just  fattening  on  simple  people  like  you),  for  next  to 
nothing, —  and  then  you  mend  matters  by  giving  yourself 
to  the  riffraff  at  the  bottom  of  it  for  nothing  at  all." 

Roger  grew  paler,  as  Cicely  flushed  a  more  and  more 
vivid  rose-red.  Both  were  very  angry;  and  to  both  came 
the  sickening  memory  of  the  last  quarrel,  and  of  the 
quarrel  before  the  last.  The  unlocked  door  was  open  a 
little,  and  they  heard  the  ghosts  prowling  horribly  in- 
side. 

"  Cicely,"  said  Roger,  keeping  a  determined  hand  on 
his  self-control,  "  don't  talk  like  this.  It's  not  yourself; 
you  got  it  from  Mrs.  Reynolds.  Let's  drop  the  subject 
until  you  can  look  at  it  differently." 

But  Cicely  could  not  so  easily  recapture  the  leash, 
once  the  wild  little  beast  of  her  temper  had  escaped  her. 


112     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Yes,  until  you  can  blind  mf  you  did  at  first !  "  she 
said.  "  I  tell  you  once  for  all,  it's  too  late.  With  or 
without  Clarissa,  I  can  see  things  now  as  they  are." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Roger,  grown  very  white,  "  you  had 
better  have  seen  them  before.  Perhaps  you  wish  you  had 
had  your  present  wisdom  before  you  found  yourself  in 
your  present  position." 

"  Perhaps  I  do !  "  flashed  Cicely  hotly.  Then,  with 
the  door  swinging  wide,  and  the  ghosts  showing  their 
grisly  faces,  she  was  suddenly  panic-stricken.  "  Oh,  no, 
no ! "  she  cried.  "  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that,  Roger ! 
You're  right,  we  must  stop  —  we  must  stop  quickly !  " 
She  touched  the  bell  with  frightened  fingers,  and  took 
refuge  in  the  soothing  matter-of-factness  of  breakfast  and 
Hitty's  presence. 

However,  the  ghosts  were  by  no  means  laid;  and  as 
the  meal  came  to  an  end  and  Roger  rose  to  go,  the 
earlier  subject  thrust  itself  wilfully  back  again. 

"  About  the  picnic,"  said  Cicely,  without  meeting  his 
eyes.  "  Have  you  changed  your  mind?  " 

"  I  can't,  dear,"  said  Roger.     "  I  wish  I  could." 

"  Then,"  said  Cicely,  "  I  suppose  I  must  go  alone. 
Don't  expect  me  to  luncheon;  I  shall  be  gone  all  day." 

Roger  turned  anxiously  to  face  her.  "I'd  rather  you 
wouldn't,  Cicely !  "  he  said.  "  I  don't  want  you  wan- 
.  dering  in  these  woods  alone.  At  this  time  of  year,  when 
the  tramps  are  going  to  the  cities,  they  are  full  of  all 
sorts  of  rowdies." 

"  Then  we  shall  be  in  equally  good  company !  "  re- 
torted Cicely.  "  If  you  prefer  janitors  to  me,  I  prefer 
tramps  to  you.  I'm  going." 


AN  ADVENTURE  IN  ARC  AD  Y     113 

Roger  stiffened  his  shoulders.  "  Cicely,"  he  said,  "  I 
ask  you  not  to ;  is  that  enough  ?  " 

"  No,  it  is  not!  "  said  Cicely.  "  I  asked  you  not  to  go 
to  your  janitors." 

The  pallor  came  back  to  Roger's  face,  and  his  eyes 
looked  steely.  "  Then,"  he  said,  "  I  forbid  you  to  go. 
You  drive  me  to  it,  Cicely."  And  without  another  word, 
without  a  thought  of  the  good-bye  kiss,  he  strode  out  of 
the  room  and  out  of  the  little  house. 

Cicely  listened  to  his  firm  step  as  it  tramped  out  of 
hearing,  and  her  cheeks  burned  like  coals.  "  He  forbids 
me !  "  she  said  aloud ;  and,  rising  swiftly,  she  went  to  the 
kitchen  door.  "  Hitty,"  she  commanded  in  a  clear  voice, 
"  please  put  me  up  a  lunch  as  quickly  as  possible.  I  am 
going  on  a  picnic." 


When  Cicely  hurried  from  the  house  and  down  the  vil- 
lage street,  her  eyes  were  still  blazing,  and  her  hands 
clenched:  an  angry  refrain  marched  round  and  round  in 
her  heart, —  "  He  prefers  those  ruffians  to  me  .  .  . 
I  asked  him  not  to  go,  and  he  went  .  .  .  He  forbade  me ; 
I'd  go  if  it  killed  me  .  .  ."  But  soon,  steadily  and  subtly, 
the  magic  of  the  day  began  to  work  on  her  mood;  first 
the  refrain  grew  slower,  then  became  intermittent,  then 
ceased.  She  breathed  the  soft  air  deeply,  and  looked 
about  at  the  radiant  world.  "  What  a  waste  of  time, 
to  be  angry  now !  "  she  told  herself.  "  I  can  be  angry 
when  I  go  home.  Now  I'm  out  of  bounds;  I'll  be  gay; 
I  will  be  gay !  Time  enough  for  the  other  things  later." 
And  with  the  concentration  of  will  which  her  creed  of 


114     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

living  for  pleasure  had  taught  her,  she  pushed  her  de- 
pression determinedly  away,  and  spurred  herself  into  the 
spirit  of  the  morning. 

The  woods  awaited  her  in  an  enchantment  of  golden 
silence  that  set  her  instantly  in  another  world.  Under- 
foot the  autumn  carpet  rustled  crisply,  and  gave  forth  a 
pungent  smell;  now  and  then,  across  the  sun-flooded  air, 
a  yellow  leaf  fluttered  lightly ;  and  in  an  evergreen  thicket 
a  lingering  gypsy  of  a  thrush,  braving  future  danger  for 
present  joy,  was  singing  rapturously.  Cicely  had  never 
wandered  alone  in  the  woods  in  all  her  well-chaperoned, 
conventional  life;  the  space,  the  silence  and  mystery,  in- 
toxicated her.  "  I'm  free !  "  she  cried  aloud.  "  I'm 
free!  and  I'll  be  wild,  wild!"  and  suddenly,  coming  to 
a  long  open  glade  of  pine-trees,  she  dropped  her  little 
basket,  flung  out  a  singing  cry  like  a  Valkyr,  and  began 
to  run. 

Now  her  blood  was  leaping,  and  she  had  no  need  to 
urge  herself  into  excitement.  She  ran  at  a  speed  she 
had  not  known  she  possessed,  throwing  back  her  head  and 
letting  her  hair  blow  wild;  and  at  the  end  of  the  long 
avenue  she  flung  herself  on  the  pine-carpet,  panting  and 
glowing.  "  I'm  free!  "  she  told  herself  again  and  again. 
"  How  glorious  to  be  free, —  how  glorious  !  " 

As  she  lay  resting,  her  ear  was  suddenly  caught  by 
the  clear,  sharp  call  of  another  free  wood-creature, — 
"  Bob- White !  Bob-White !  Bob- White !  "  She  sat  up 
and  listened;  and  the  quail  called  again, — "Bob-White! 
Bob-White !  " —  very  near,  crisp  and  insistent.  Cicely, 
charmed,  sprang  up,  determined  to  follow  the  pretty 


AN  ADVENTURE  IN  ARCADY     115 

sound.  After  one  or  two  false  casts,  she  heard  it  plainly 
in  a  little  dell,  walled  by  thick  branches,  at  her  right. 
She  held  her  breath,  and  stole  softly  towards  it.  It  re- 
peated itself,  clear  and  mellow;  she  crept  closer  and 
closer,  until  it  seemed  at  her  very  elbow;  and  at  last, 
parting  the  branches,  she  peered  eagerly  into  the  dell,  to 
see  —  the  dark-haired  boy  of  the  President's  Reception, 
sitting  with  his  fingers  at  his  mouth,  whistling  clearly 
and  perfectly  the  quail's  call,  and  laughing  at  her. 

For  a  moment  they  gazed  at  each  other, —  Cicely  star- 
ing in  blank  amazement,  the  boy  returning  her  look  with 
dancing  brown  eyes,  and  Bob-Whiting  softly  and  steadily. 
Then  Cicely  began  to  laugh;  and  he,  enchanted  with  his 
success,  and  bursting  with  mirth  over  his  excellent  joke, 
began  to  laugh  too,  dropping  his  fingers  and  shouting 
whole-heartedly.  The  more  one  laughed,  the  more  the 
other  did;  they  laughed  until  the  inclosure  rang  and 
their  eyes  were  wet;  they  were  like  two  children,  over- 
come by  each  other's  mirth,  and  by  delight  in  their  own 
foolishness. 

"  Well,  Great  God  Pan !  "  gasped  Cicely  at  last,  drop- 
ping down  on  the  ground.  "  This  is  nice  behaviour ! 
What  were  you  trying  to  do,  with  your  wicked  deceitful 
piping?" 

"  I  was  catching  wood-nymphs !  "  said  the  boy,  with  a 
last  dying  giggle.  "  I  baited  my  trap  well,  didn't  I  ? 
I  never  expected  to  get  such  a  good  specimen,  though;  I 
believe  I'll  have  you  stuffed,  and  give  you  to  the  Smith- 
sonian Institute." 

"I  believe  you  won't!"  retorted  Cicely.     "If  there's 


116     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

any  stuffing  done,  I'll  be  the  one  to  do  it.  Pans  are  rarer 
than  nymphs  any  day.  Besides,  you  haven't  caught  me 
yet." 

"  Haven't  I,  though !  "  said  the  boy.  "  I've  lured  you 
inside  my  magic  circle,  and  now  you're  powerless  to  es- 
cape. Try  it  and  see." 

"  Very  well,  then,  I  will !  "  cried  Cicely.  "  Good- 
bye! "  and  jumping  up  on  the  instant,  she  dodged  nimbly 
through  a  crevice  between  the  trees. 

The  boy  was  on  his  feet  as  soon  as  she,  and,  slipping 
through  another  cranny,  headed  her  off  and  drove  her 
back  again  into  the  dell.  Laughing,  she  ran  from  one 
opening  to  another,  but  he  was  always  before  her  on  the 
other  side,  beating  her  back  with  a  feathery  pine-needle 
switch;  and  at  last,  fairly  vanquished,  she  gave  in  and 
dropped  again  on  the  ground,  laughing  breathlessly. 

"  There,  you  see !  "  said  the  boy,  returning  trium- 
phant. "  You  might  as  well  try  to  disobey  the  law  of 
gravitation.  You're  my  subject,  do  you  hear  me?  and 
I'm  boss  in  this  place." 

"  I'm  not  your  subject!  "  retorted  Cicely.  "  I'm  a  re- 
publican nymph,  with  no  ruler  but  myself !  " 

"  Treason !  treason !  "  cried  the  boy.  "  You  can't  fool 
me  with  that  kind  of  talk.  I  know  you:  your  name  is 
Sylvia;  you  live  in  a  birch-tree;  and  you  have  a  red 
squirrel  for  your  chaperon  and  housemaid.  You  see  I've 
got  your  number." 

"Oh,  very  well!"  said  Cicely.  "Then  I'll  give  you 
your  statistics.  Your  name  is  Pan, —  you  live  in  an  ash- 
pan, —  you  eat  out  of  a  dish-pan, —  and  you  spend  your 
time  in  raising  —  pandemonium." 


AN  ADVENTURE  IN  ARC  AD  Y     117 

The  boy  covered  his  ears  with  a  face  of  horror. 
"  Who'd  have  believed  it !  "  he  cried.  "  Such  thoughts 
behind  such  features !  I  see  I  diagnosed  you  wrong  after 
all;  you're  not  Sylvia,  you're  nothing  but  your  own 
squirrel ;  you're  a  punster  and  a  criminal ;  and  your  name 
is  Xuts." 

Cicely  gathered  herself  into  a  begging  posture  and 
wrinkled  her  nose  at  him;  and  indeed  she  looked  not 
unlike  a  mischievous  squirrel,  with  her  fur  toque  and 
coat,  and  her  merry  eyes.  "  Proud,  I'm  sure !  "  said 
she.  "  And  I  got  you  wrong,  too ;  you're  no  relation  to 
the  great  god  Pan;  you're  just  his  hanger-on  and  hench- 
man, named  —  named,  sir  —  Pancakes  !  " 

With  that  they  burst  out  laughing  again,  borne  away 
on  another  delicious  gale  of  youth  and  silliness.  Ex- 
traordinary how  easy  it  was  to  laugh,  in  this  clear  air  and 
this  free  wilderness !  Cicely  felt  like  a  bird,  lifted  out  of 
every-day  trammels  and  frets,  swimming  gloriously 
among  the  gay  breezes. 

When  this  new  paroxysm  was  over,  and  they  sat  in 
that  luxurious  passivity  which  follows  abundant  laughter, 
the  boy  leaned  forward  and  addressed  Cicely  confiden- 
tially. "  Some  time  ago,  when  you  first  appeared  on  this 
scene,  Nuts,"  he  said,  "  I  think  you  let  fall  an  observation 
about  your  intention  of  stuffing  me." 

"  You  were  the  one  who  introduced  the  subject,"  said 
Cicely.  "  I  only  followed  your  lead,  as  any  polite 
squirrel  would, —  you  appearing  to  think  yourself  my 
superior." 

"Yes,  but  I  spoke  figuratively,"  said  he;  "and  I 
thought  I  saw  a  literal  sort  of  glint  in  your  eye.  That, 


118    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

coupled  with  your  reference  to  pancakes,  made  me  hope 
that  you  knew  where  they  kept  the  refreshments.  My 
inner  Pan  begins  to  think  it's  lunch-time." 

"  Greedy  thing !  "  said  Cicely.  "  At  this  hour  of  the 
day !  That  shows  how  much  of  a  god  you  are.  Get  to 
work  and  dig  some  roots,  then;  that's  what  they  live  on 
in  the  woods, —  roots  and  herbs." 

"  Those  may  do  for  swineherds,  but  not  for  near-gods 
like  me,  or  squirrels  like  you,"  said  the  boy.  "  No;  I 
was  thinking,  Nuts,  that  if  I  could  be  sure  you  wouldn't 
frisk  into  your  hollow  tree,  I'd  hie  me  to  the  purlieus 
of  yon  town  and  seek  the  wandering  peanut-vender.  I 
didn't  have  much  breakfast,  and  I'd  like  to  begin  on  that 
stuffing  process, —  no  time  like  the  present.  But  all  the 
same,  if  there's  any  danger  of  your  taking  to  the  tall 
timber  I'll  starve  before  I  stir  from  this  spot." 

"  Well,  now  that  you  put  it  so  reasonably,"  said  Cicely 
reflectively,  "  I  didn't  have  much  breakfast  myself,  and 
I  do  seem  to  remember  that  I've  got  a  winter  store  of 
nuts  somewhere  around  these  woods.  Now  where  did  I 
—  Oh  yes,  I  know !  at  the  other  end  of  the  long  pine 
path." 

"  I'll  beat  you  to  it,"  stated  the  boy  succinctly;  and  he 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  held  back  the  branches  for  her  to 
pass. 

As  they  stood  side  by  side  in  the  glade  the  long  vista 
tempted  them,  as  it  had  tempted  Cicely  before,  and  on  a 
common  impulse  they  began  to  run.  They  looked  at 
each  other  with  dancing  eyes  of  challenge;  the  breeze 
whistled  blithely  past  their  ears,  and  they  sped  faster 
and  faster,  racing.  The  delicious  intoxication  of  speed 


AN  ADVENTURE  IN  ARCADY     119 

was  upon  them  in  a  flash.  Cicely's  hat  blew  off;  the  boy 
lost  his  cap;  they  strewed  the  way  with  a  miscellaneous 
trail  of  hairpins,  handkerchiefs  and  pencils;  but  noth- 
ing mattered.  When  Cicely's  breath  began  to  fail  and 
her  feet  to  stumble,  the  boy  caught  her  hand  and  pulled 
her  along;  and  at  last  they  reached  the  end  of  the  path 
side  by  side  as  they  had  begun,  and  drew  up,  panting  and 
laughing. 

"  Neck  and  neck !  "  cried  the  boy.  "  I'll  tell  you  what, 
Nuts,  you  can  set  the  pace  for  the  other  squirrels !  But 
that  was  going  some,  even  for  you,  wasn't  it?  " 

"Oh,  Pancakes,  don't  talk  to  me!"  panted  Cicely, 
leaning  against  a  tree.  "  Oh,  where  is  my  breath?  " 

"  I  think  you  left  it  about  half-way  back,  along  with 
the  other  plunder,"  said  he.  "  Don't  frisk  away  while  I 
go  for  it."  He  started  off  at  a  trot,  looking  back  ad- 
miringly at  her  flushed  face,  tumbling  hair,  and  parted 
breathless  lips. 

"  I  shan't  move  from  this  spot  —  for  fifty-five  years," 
gasped  Cicely,  sitting  down.  "  You'll  find  me  —  all 
right  —  when  you  come  back." 

"Yes,  I'll  find  you,  all  right!  "  said  the  boy,  beneath 
his  breath.  "  I  won't  lose  you  again."  He  ran  off, 
waving  his  hand  and  gazing  at  her  over  his  shoulder. 

When  he  returned,  Cicely  had  patted  herself  into  some 
sort  of  order,  and  was  settled  snugly  against  the  tree, 
deliciously  tired.  She  received  the  spoils  that  the  boy 
brought  her  with  gratitude,  and  in  return  pointed  out  to 
him  the  wicker  lunch-basket,  still  reposing  unmolested  in 
a  thicket.  His  face  of  exuberant  pleasure  fell  at  the 
sight. 


120     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Oh,  I  say !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  can't  eat  up  your 
rations !  I  thought  you  really  meant  you  had  seen  nut- 
trees.  You  eat  this,  and  I'll  go  and  forage." 

"  What  a  goose  you  are,  Pancakes ! "  said  Cicely. 
"  There's  enough  food  there  for  ten  strong  men.  Don't 
make  me  argue,  when  I  haven't  got  my  breath !  " 

"  Yes,  but  you  need  this,  Nuts,"  protested  the 
boy.  "  I'm  not  going  to  snatch  food  from  the  mouths 
of  helpless  squirrels." 

"Stop  talking,  and  open  that  basket!"  commanded 
Cicely.  "  Do  you  want  me  to  kill  myself  trying  to  eat 
all  that  lunch  alone?  I'll  get  the  'other  republican 
squirrels  together  and  impeach  you,  if  you  behave  like  a 
tyrant." 

Thus  threatened,  the  boy  relinquished  his  scruples,  got 
the  lunch-basket,  and  sat  down  cross-legged  to  open  it. 
At  sight  of  what  was  revealed  he  gave  a  whoop  of  ecstasy. 
"  Oh,  my  pipes !  "  he  cried.  "  Oh,  look  at  this !  Lettuce 
sandwiches !  Cheese  sandwiches !  Nut  sandwiches ! 
Cold  chicken!  Pate-de-what-d'ye-call-it !  O  Pan,  old 
tooter,  this  is  a  happy  day  for  you !  " 

Cicely  was  hardly  less  elated.  She  sat  up  straight 
and  clapped  her  hands,  her  breath  suddenly  restored. 
"  Oh,  how  hungry  I  am !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Light  the 
little  lamp,  quick,  and  heat  the  chocolate.  Aren't  there 
any  olives  ?  Isn't  there  any  chocolate  cake  ?  Let  me  un- 
pack it,  Pancakes, —  you're  so  slow !  Oh,  I  could  eat  the 
hinges!  " 

Greedy  and  gay,  they  settled  down  to  their  meal  in 
wild  spirits.  Cicely  ate  with  the  fork,  the  boy  with  the 
knife;  she  drank  from  the  cup,  and  he  from  the  little 


sauce-pan;  they  took  turns  stirring  with  the  one  spoon. 
They  laughed  so  much  that  the  real  squirrels  in  the 
trees  eyed  them  askance,  and  scolded  querulously;  and 
then  they  laughed  again,  and  imitated  the  squirrels'  cross 
"  chitching  " ;  and  so  on  until  they  reached  the  bottom  of 
the  basket  and  the  end  of  the  crumbs.  There  never  was 
such  a  rollicking  picnic  in  all  the  history  of  hampers. 

"  Oh,  what  a  bully  time !  "  said  the  boy,  as  they  fin- 
ished. "  Race  you  down  to  the  brook,  Nuts !  " 

But  Cicely,  with  the  retirement  of  the  basket  from 
the  stage,  fell  all  at  once  into  the  grip  of  one  of  those 
abrupt  changes  of  mood  which  so  quickly  altered  the  face 
of  the  world  for  her.  It  was  afternoon  now;  she  was 
tired;  she  was  sick  of  laughter  and  folly;  and  suddenly 
she  wanted  nothing  but  home  and  Roger. 

"  I'm  going  home!  "  she  said.  "  I  don't  want  to  stay 
here  any  longer." 

"  Oh,  Nuts !  "  he  cried.  "  When  we're  having  such  a 
lark!  Why,  you  can't  go;  it's  absurd.  Come,  let's  play 
hide-and-seek;  I'll  be  It." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Cicely  impatiently.     "  I'm  going." 

He  began  to  coax  her  charmingly;  he  was  quite  as 
charming  as  she,  and  almost  as  accustomed  to  having  his 
own  way.  "  Please,  please !  Just  a  little  while !  Oh, 
Nuts,  you  can't  go  yet.  I've  got  millions  of  things  in 
this  wood  to  show  you.  There's  a  waterfall  in  the  brook ; 
and  I  know  where  there's  a  coon's  nest, —  I  do,  truly ;  and 
there's  a  hollow  tree  over  by  the  dell  where  I  found  four 
baby  squirrels  last  spring.  Oh,  don't  go,  Nuts!  This 
is  the  best  day  I  ever  had  in  my  life." 

At  all  his  pleading  Cicely  shook  an  impatient  head. 


122    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

She  had  no  thought  now  for  anything  but  Roger,  and  his 
strong  arms,  and  his  big  comfortable  shoulder;  she  would 
run  to  him,  and  they  would  forget  the  quarrels,  and  all 
would  be  happiness  again.  She  started  up  and  began 
to  gather  her  belongings. 

"  Well,  if  we  must  go,  we  must,"  said  the  boy,  yielding 
reluctantly  at  sight  of  her  determination ;  "  but  we  can't 
go  till  we  pack  the  basket,  and  we  can't  pack  till  we 
wash  up.  Come  on,  let's  take  the  things  to  the  brook." 
He  coaxed  her  again,  trying  to  gain  what  time  he  could 
to  prolong  the  happy  hour. 

But  Cicely  was  not  to  be  seduced.  "  You  take  them," 
she  said;  "  I'm  too  tired."  And  as  soon  as,  with  uncon- 
cealed reluctance,  he  had  obeyed,  she  began  to  slip 
stealthily  away,  looking  over  her  shoulder  to  make  sure 
he  did  not  see  her.  She  had  finished  with  the  boy  now, 
she  was  tired  of  him;  she  wanted  only  Roger. 

She  had  nearly  reached  the  road,  and,  safely  out  of 
sight,  was  hurrying  at  a  pace  that  was  almost  a  run, 
when  suddenly  her  foot  caught  on  some  obstruction  in 
the  path,  and  she  stumbled  forward.  With  a  sharp 
exclamation  she  caught  at  a  tree  to  save  herself;  and  as 
she  did  so  the  obstruction,  which  she  had  supposed  to  be 
a  root,  moved,  and  displayed  itself  as  a  pair  of  legs  in- 
cased in  very  dirty  trousers.  At  the  same  instant  an  un- 
kempt head,  with  a  red,  bristled  face  and  sleepy  eyes, 
peered  round  the  tree,  muttering,  "  What'n  helFs  this  ? 
Whadyer  mean, —  hey?" 

Cicely's  heart  jumped  uncomfortably.  "It's  one  of 
those  tramps !  "  she  thought.  "  What  a  horrible  crea- 
ture! Why  didn't  I  listen  to  Roger?  "  But,  putting  on 


AN  ADVENTURE  IN  ARCADY     123 

a  bold  front,  she  faced  the  man  squarely.  "  I  beg  par- 
don for  disturbing  you/'  she  said.  "  Let  me  pass, 
please." 

At  sound  of  her  voice  the  man  looked  up,  and  his  scowl 
gave  way  to  a  silly  leer.  He  scrambled  unsteadily  to  his 
feet.  The  marks  of  liquor  were  plain  upon  him,  in  his 
lurching  movements  and  fetid  breath. 

"  Granted,  granted,"  he  said  affably,  reaching  towards 
her  with  a  dirty  hand.  "  Always  willin'  t'  grant  pardon 
t'  a  pretty  pippin  like  you.  Gimme  a  kiss,  'n'  we'll  say 
no  more  about  it." 

Cicely  drew  herself  up.  "  Let  me  pass,  please,"  she 
repeated.  "  You're  in  my  path." 

"  Thass  right,"  agreed  the  man,  planting  himself 
firmly  in  front  of  her.  "  I'm  in  your  path,  'n'  I'm  goin' 
stay  there.  You're  a  peach.  Gimme  a  kiss."  He 
lunged  at  her  with  arms  outstretched,  and  now  his  eyes 
were  inflamed  and  lustful. 

Fear  clutched  at  Cicely's  throat.  Lurching-drunk  as 
the  man  was,  he  was  big  and  burly;  her  strength  would 
be  nothing  against  him.  She  stood  her  ground  for  an  in- 
stant more,  but,  as  he  lunged  again,  her  courage  gave 
way,  and  she  turned  with  a  little  cry  and  ran  back  into 
the  wood. 

The  man,  cursing  her  furiously,  rushed  after  her.  She 
was  swift  and  frightened,  but  he  was  angry,  and  the 
motion  through  the  clear  air  steadied  him.  In  a  moment 
he  was  close  behind  her,  catching  at  her  arm.  Instinct 
made  her  wise,  and  she  dodged  behind  a  tree;  but  though 
for  the  instant  he  was  at  a  loss,  as  soon  as  she  began  to 
run  again  he  was  after  her.  This  time  he  clutched  her 


124     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

shoulders,  swearing  half  in  rage  and  half  in  triumph: 
she  shrugged  swiftly  out  of  her  coat,  and,  leaving  it  in 
his  hands,  darted  away.  But  now  her  heart  was  labour- 
ing as  if  it  would  burst,  her  lungs  too  were  bursting,  and 
her  feet  faltered  under  her.  She  was  at  the  end  of  her 
strength.  "  O  Roger,  Roger !  "  she  cried  despairingly. 

"  What's  that  ?  "  called  a  cheery  voice.  "  Where  are 
you  hiding,  Nuts  ?  " 

"  Here !  Oh,  come,  Boy,  come !  "  screamed  Cicely. 
"  Help  me !  " 

With  a  startled  exclamation  and  a  crashing  of  bushes 
the  boy  came  running.  "I'm  coming!"  he  shouted. 
"  Hold  on,  Nuts!  I'm  with  you!  "  and  almost  upon  the 
words  he  was  there,  bursting  through  the  underbrush  like 
a  moose.  At  sight  of  his  fiery  young  face,  the  tramp 
wavered,  stopped,  and  then, —  true  to  the  code  of  the 
bully  tribe, —  turned  tail  with  a  yell  and  made  off  through 
the  woods:  and  Cicely,  with  a  little  piteous  cry,  crumpled 
to  the  ground  in  a  heap. 

The  boy  dropped  on  his  knees  beside  her,  his  heart 
swelling  fiercely  with  rage  and  pity.  "  I'd  like  to  kill 
the  brute !  "  he  said,  breathing  hard.  "  Poor,  poor  little 
girl!" 

"  I'm  not  going  to  faint,"  Cicely  murmured  deter- 
minedly: and  then  suddenly,  "O  Boy,  help  me  not  to 
faint !  "  she  cried,  and  flung  out  her  hands  to  him. 

He  caught  the  cold  little  hands,  and  the  touch  of 
them  took  him  suddenly  out  of  himself.  He  kissed  the 
hands  first,  and  then,  as  she  swayed  towards  him,  he 
caught  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  hair  and  her  smooth 
cheek.  The  touch  of  his  lips  stung  her  back  to  con- 


AN  ADVENTURE  IN  ARCADY     125 

sciousness ;  she  drew  away  from  him,  and  struggled  to  her 
feet.  He  rose  too,  catching  his  breath.  They  stood 
gazing  at  each  other,  startled  and  shamefaced. 

"  I  must  go  home,"  said  Cicely  brokenly.  "  Why  did 
I  ever  come  ?  Oh  —  Boy  — 

"I'm  a  blackguard!"  said  the  boy.  "I  don't  know 
what  made  me  do  it.  Please,  please  forgive  me!  I'll 
never  do  it  again  —  until  you  give  me  permission." 

Cicely  heard  him  dimly,  as  if  from  a  distance  or 
through  the  sound  of  water.  The  pretty  play  had  ended, 
and  it  was  time  now  to  pay  the  piper  and  face  the  facts. 
But  she  had  no  eyes  for  the  false  situation,  or  for  the 
boy  standing  there  and  falling  in  love  with  her  as  fast  as 
hot-foot  youth  could  fall.  She  was  too  weary  in  mind 
and  body  to  do  anything  but  long  for  Roger.  "  I  must 
go  home,"  she  kept  saying  in  a  whisper. 

The  boy  looked  at  her,  adoring  and  ashamed.  "  Yes, 
you  must  go  home,"  he  agreed.  "  But  I  think  —  I  think 
you  can't  go  that  way.  Your  —  your  dress  is  torn. 
Where  is  your  coat?  " 

"  The  tramp  took  it,"  said  Cicely  dully.  She  looked 
down,  and  there  on  her  breast  was  a  jagged  rent  in  the 
sheer  fabric  of  her  blouse,  where  the  rose-white  flesh 
showed  smoothly  swelling.  At  sight  of  it  the  tears  welled 
into  her  eyes,  and  she  began  to  cry  softly  and  wearily, 
like  a  child  who  has  been  hurt  too  much  to  bear  anything 
more.  "  I  must  go  home,"  she  wailed  softly,  "  and  I 
can't  go  —  I  can't  go  this  way.  What  shall  I  do  ?  Oh 
me !  " 

"  I'll  fix  it,"  said  the  boy  quietly.  He  took  from  un- 
der his  coat  a  little  pin,  oddly  shaped  and  enamelled  with 


126     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

a  cryptic  emblem.  "  May  I  pin  it  with  this  ?  "  he  asked ; 
and,  Cicely  nodding  mutely  with  the  tears  running  down, 
he  caught  the  torn  edges  together  and  made  them  fast. 
His  fingers  trembled  when  they  touched  the  warm  flesh, 
but  he  did  the  work  without  bungling.  Then,  breathing 
rather  fast,  he  wiped  her  cheeks  with  his  handkerchief, 
and  turned  her  gently  so  that  she  faced  the  road. 
"  There,  little  girl,"  he  said,  "  now  you  can  go  home." 

Silently  they  went  through  the  path  to  the  street, 
Cicely  walking  unsteadily  before.  Now  and  then  she 
gave  a  stifled  sob,  and  at  that  the  boy  bit  his  lip,  but 
neither  one  stopped  or  spoke.  At  the  edge  of  the  town 
he  secured  a  carriage  and  put  her  into  it,  saying  good- 
bye to  her  soberly;  she,  still  dumb,  gave  him  her  cold 
hand.  So  they  parted,  the  boy  tramping  down  the  street 
in  a  delicious  turmoil  of  joy  and  pain,  thrilled  to  the 
finger-tips,  gloriously  stirred;  and  Cicely  cowering  in 
the  slow-moving  carriage,  spent  and  miserable.  As  for 
the  little  wicker  lunch-basket,  it  was  abandoned  in  the 
woods,  with  the  rest  of  that  day's  gaiety. 


Roger  had  waited  and  watched  for  Cicely  since  he 
came  home  at  noon,  growing  more  alarmed  with  each 
passing  minute.  He  could  not  work,  but  tramped  back 
and  forth  through  the  little  house  in  «  torment  of  sus- 
pense, picturing  her  in  all  sorts  of  straits, —  lost;  terri- 
fied; hurt  and  unhelped;  kidnapped.  At  last  he  could 
stand  it  no  longer,  and  had  seized  his  cap  and  stick  to 


AN  ADVENTURE  IN  ARCADY     127 

go  and  hunt  for  her,  when  her  carriage  rattled  down 
the  little  street  and  stopped  at  the  door. 

At  sight  of  her,  coming  up  the  path  alive  and  well,  the 
inevitable  reaction  set  sharply  in.  Cicely's  conventional 
training  had  come  to  her  aid  when  she  began  to  meet  the 
curious  looks  of  the  townsfolk,  and  had  spurred  her  into 
self-command;  she  had  dried  her  eyes  and  straightened 
her  hat,  and  recaptured  something  of  her  usual  air  of 
trig  daintiness.  Seen  from  the  window,  she  was  her 
own  debonair  self;  and  all  the  flood  of  anxiety  pent  up 
within  Roger  turned  to  indignation  against  its  careless 
cause,  who  had  been  gaily  enjoying  herself  without  a 
thought  of  how  she  tortured  him.  He  went  to  open  the 
door  for  her,  but  his  face  was  stern  and  cold,  and  he  did 
not  smile  as  he  greeted  her. 

As  for  Cicely,  at  the  moment  of  meeting  she  too  suf- 
fered a  harsh  reaction.  She  had  thought  so  much  and 
so  longingly  of  Roger's  welcoming  arms  that  this  re- 
ception struck  her  like  a  blow  in  the  face.  Her  heart 
contracted  sharply.  But  pride  lashed  her  into  coldness; 
she  stiffened  her  trembling  lips,  and  looked  at  him  with 
eyes  as  bright  as  ice. 

"  Well,  I  went  to  the  picnic !  "  she  said. 

"  So  I  see,"  said  Roger.  "  You  appear  to  have  en- 
joyed it." 

"  Of  course !  "  said  Cicely  defiantly. 

"  I  suppose,  then,"  said  Roger,  bitter  and  miserable, 
"  since  my  wishes  have  no  weight  with  you,  and  you 
amuse  yourself  so  well  away  from  me,  you  will  take 
your  pleasures  in  the  future  regardless  of  me." 

"  Yes,  I  probably  shall,"  said  Cicely,  "  since  you  ar- 


128     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

range  yours  in  the  same  way.  And  now,  if  you  will 
kindly  excuse  me,  I  will  go  to  my  room  and  refresh  my- 
self." 

"  I  hardly  see  why  you  should  need  refreshment,  after 
such  an  agreeable  day,"  said  Roger,  and  his  eyes 
travelled  coldly  over  her  tired  beauty  and  tumbled  rai- 
ment. Suddenly  they  focussed  on  the  little  pin  on  her 
breast.  "  Where  did  you  get  that  pin  ? "  he  asked 
sharply. 

Cicely's  little  inner  devil  jumped  as  at  the  flick  of  a 
whip.  She  had  forgotten  both  the  pin  and  the  boy  in 
this  far  greater  concern  of  Roger's  anger  and  her  own 
wretchedness,  but  the  fierce  note  of  authority  in  his  voice 
made  her  white-hot  in  an  instant.  "  Is  that  any  affair 
of  yours?  "  she  flashed. 

Roger  flushed  dark  red,  and  the  veins  in  his  temples 
swelled  and  stood  out.  "  It's  this  affair,"  he  said 
thickly, — "  that  the  man  who  has  a  pin  like  that  is 
pledged  not  to  give  it  to  any  but  the  woman  he  loves; 
and  you  happen  to  be  my  wife." 

Cicely's  heart  gave  a  convulsive  leap,  as  if  it  had 
turned  over  and  lain  down  again.  She  hardly  knew 
whether  this  could  be  her  quiet  husband,  this  man  with 
the  face  of  fierce,  primeval  passion  and  the  savage  eyes. 
She  felt  terrified;  and  yet  mingled  with  the  terror  was  a 
strange,  secret  delight  that  she  could  move  him  so. 

"  He  didn't  give  it  to  me,"  she  said  hurriedly.  "  A 
tramp  ran  after  me  and  tore  my  blouse,  and  this  boy  (I 
don't  know  his  name),  fastened  it  with  his  pin  so  that 
I  could  come  home.  That's  all." 

Roger  looked  at  her  for  a  minute,  with  narrowed  eye- 


AN  ADVENTURE  IN  ARCADY     129 

lids  and  a  spark  glinting  between  them.  "  A  tramp 
tore  your  dress,  and  a  boy  whose  name  you  don't  know 
fastened  it  with  his  fraternity  pin,"  he  said  at  last, 
hoarsely.  "  So  that's  all !  It's  enough,  Cicely."  He 
swallowed  hard,  and  his  big  hands  clenched  and  un- 
clenched; then,  turning  sharply,  he  walked  into  his  study 
and  flung  the  door  shut. 

Cicely  stood  gasping  where  he  had  left  her.  Once  she 
made  a  movement  towards  the  door,  and  then  drew  vio- 
lently back  again.  At  last,  lifting  her  head  high,  she 
marched  up  the  stairs  to  her  room,  went  to  the  door  that 
connected  it  with  Roger's,  locked  it,  and  flung  the  key 
from  the  window  out  into  the  garden  shrubbery. 

They  did  not  meet  again  that  day.  It  grew  dark,  and 
Hitty  prepared  an  unregarded  dinner,  and  cleared  it 
away  again;  and  Roger  tramped  .up  and  down  behind  the 
shut  door  of  the  study;  and  Cicely  sat  staring  out  of  her 
window  and  thinking  that  the  end  of  the  world  had 
come.  And  night  fell. 


VI 

ARCADY    MISLAID 

THE  end  of  the  world  had  not  come,  however.  It  seldom 
does.  Even  though  the  seismic  rumblings  under  the  little 
House  of  Ford  ought  to  have  shaken  the  whole  firma- 
ment, days  and  nights  continued  to  follow  each  other  on 
scheduled  time,  clothes  had  to  be  put  on  and  off,  meals 
eaten,  and  words  of  some  sort  spoken.  Roger  and 
Cicely,  face  to  face  with  the  inexorableness  of  every-day, 
were  cowed  into  submission.  They  made  peace  with 
brief  speeches  of  formal  regret;  and  life  went  on. 

Such  a  dreary  life !  No  more  stolen  kisses  behind  the 
door  in  the  hall,  with  guests  waiting  just  inside  the  draw- 
ing-room; no  more  bursts  of  high  spirits  when  Cicely 
gave  imitations  of  Professor  Roger  on  the  lecture  plat- 
form, and  Roger  disciplined  her  by  putting  her  into  the 
waste-basket;  no  more  precious  secrets  whispered  close 
and  still,  arms  entwined,  hearts  beating  together. 
"  Badger  "  and  "  Pixie  "  were  gone,  and  all  the  little 
army  of  pet-names,  dear  and  intimate.  They  sat  rigid  in 
each  other's  presence,  talking  constrainedly  of  imper- 
sonal things,  and  thinking,  each  in  his  own  heart,  of  the 
unforgettable  wounds  the  other  had  dealt. 

The  game  in  these  days  was  a  defensive  one.  Each 
was  well  aware  of  imminent  danger,  and  each  played 
cautiously  to  safeguard  what  he  still  possessed,  not  dar- 

130 


ARCADY  MISLAID  131 

ing  the  risk  of  a  bold  move  to  recapture  the  greater 
lost  happiness.  They  were  afraid  of  each  other  now, 
these  two.  How  long  an  age  it  seemed  from  the  day 
when  they  marched  blithely  hand  in  hand  into  their 
rosy  playground,  expecting  Paradise  to  bloom  uninter- 
ruptedly about  them  forevermore,  to  this  time  of  lurking 
dangers,  bruises,  and  furtive,  mistrustful  glances !  And 
there  is  nobody  to  teach  the  rules,  and  before  a  heavy- 
hearted  player  finds  them  out  for  himself,  the  game 
may  be  lost  for  good  and  all. 


"  Roger,"  said  Cicely,  one  morning  as  he  was  leaving 
for  college,  "  we  haven't  any  engagement  for  to-night. 
You  might  invite  some  boys  to  dinner." 

Roger  understood,  though  she  spoke  carelessly.  An 
evening  alone  was  a  dangerous  thing,  to  be  avoided  at  all 
hazards.  "  All  right,"  he  said,  "  any  particular  kind?  " 

"  Any  nice  kind,"  said  Cicely.  "  Any  six  in  the  whole 
university,  provided  they  know  an  oyster-fork  from  a 
pitchfork." 

Roger  flushed  a  little,  but  let  it  lie;  he  was  always  the 
more  cautious  one  in  avoiding  the  danger-points.  "  I'll 
produce  them,"  he  said.  "  Seven  o'clock,  I  suppose. 
Can  Hitty  get  the  dinner  ?  —  not  that  it  matters !  "  he 
added  hastily, —  it  was  astonishing  how  many  subjects 
had  to  be  dodged  in  these  days.  "  Trust  me  to  deliver 
the  goods.  Good-bye,  Cicely." 

Cicely,  with  the  mingled  pang  of  relief  and  desola- 
tion which  his  departure  always  gave  her  nowadays, 
turned  listlessly  to  the  kitchen  and  Hitty.  She  had 


132     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

learned  to  encourage  her  handmaiden's  robust  conversa- 
tional powers,  finding  them  one  means  of  fending  off 
the  solitude  she  dreaded;  and  between  the  two  had 
grown  up  a  curious  friendship,  based  on  a  substratum  of 
attraction,  and  flavoured  by  the  amused  astonishment 
with  which  (each  privately  thinking  the  other  a  little  in- 
sane), they  regarded  one  another.  Hitty,  turning  from 
her  dish-washing,  gave  her  mistress  a  cheerful  wel- 
come, and  instantly  loosed  the  dogs  of  conversation  upon 
her. 

"  I  ben  havin'  a  little  crack  with  the  milkman,"  she 
said.  "  I  ast  him  if  he  ben  givin'  his  cows  sea-water 
to  drink,  to  make  the  milk  s'  blue;  an'  he  said  my  tongue 
was  enough  to  turn  the  cream  to  cheese,  an'  make  it  s' 
strong  it  c'd  walk  off  by  itself;  an'  I  told  him  I  guessed 
if  it  c'd  stand  goin'  round  half  the  mornin'  on  the  same 
wagon  with  his  face  it  c'd  stand  most  anythin'  it'd  meet 
in  this  house.  I  do'  know  what's  got  into  that  coot,  to 
make  him  s'  tonguy." 

"  I  hope  you  didn't  alienate  him  completely,"  said 
Cicely,  "  because  we're  going  to  have  six  people  to  din- 
ner to-night." 

"  Ye  don't  say !  "  exclaimed  Hitty,  looking  alarmed. 
"  I  hope  to  my  dyin'  breath,  Mis'  Ford,  ye  ain't  goin'  to 
hev  that  craterer  here  again !  I  ain't  got  done  yet 
burnin'  up  all  them  crates  he  brought  his  victuals  in, — 
an'  I  don't  want  him  clutterin'  round  under  foot,  anyway." 

"  Don't  worry,"  said  Cicely  dryly,  "  I'm  not  likely 
to  have  him  again.  I  thought  perhaps  you  and  the 
laundress  could  manage  together, —  there  aren't  going  to 
be  any  ladies,  just  young  men  from  the  college." 


ARCADY  MISLAID  133 

"  Manage !  I  sh'd  think  we  could !  "  said  Hitty,  re- 
lieved. "  I  ain't  much  on  '  lobster  tumbles  '  an'  '  chicken 
canopies/  but  what  I  do'  know  about  feedin'  boys  ain't 
wuth  knowin'.  You  leave  'em  to  me;  I'll  stuff  'em  like 
pigs  for  markit." 

"  Good,"  said  Cicely.  "  You're  used  to  feeding  boys, 
are  you,  Hitty?  " 

"  Land,  yes !  "  said  Hitty.  "  Down  home  on  the  farm 
we  used  to  hev  eight  of  'em  reg'lar, —  fam'ly  an'  hands, 
—  an'  durin'  hayiii'  time  an'  Thanksgivin'  it'd  'a'  taken 
a  professor  o'  'rithmetic  to  count  'em.  We  hed  collige 
boys,  too;  my  cousin  Al,  he  went  down  to  Orono  to  the 
State  collige,  an'  he  used  to  bring  his  friends  home 
somethin'  awful.  I  jest  wish't  you  c'd  'a'  seen  the 
style  them  fellers  put  on !  Dressy  ain't  no  word  for 
it." 

"  Tell  me  about  them,"  encouraged  Cicely.  "  Dressy, 
were  they  ?  " 

"  My  good  grief,  yes !  "  responded  Hitty,  launching 
out  impressively.  "  I  seen  the  collige  boys  here,  an'  I 
want  to  tell  ye  they  ain't  in  the  class  with  Ally's  friends 
for  style.  Why,  they'd  wear  purple  satin  neckties,  or 
red  satin  ones,  every  day;  an'  one  of  'em  hed  a  green 
one  with  blue  spots  as  big  as  yeller-eye  beans  (han'somest 
thing  you  ever  seen),  that  he'd  flummox  round  in  as 
common  as  dirt.  An'  these  stylish  collars,  cut  low-neck 
in  front,  with  points  stickin'  out  sideways, —  this  feller 
hed  'em  so  low  an'  so  big-pointed  he  looked  jest  like  a 
boat  sailin'  wing-an'-wing,  with  his  Adam's  apple  gobblin' 
up  an'  down  in  the  middle.  An'  clo'es !  Land,  they'd 
wear  fancy  fifteen-dollar  suits,  with  great  big  tasty 


134     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

checks  and  turnin'-back  cuffs  an'  buttons  all  over,  jest 
as  if  they  was  nothin'  at  all." 

"  They  must  have  been  the  latest  Hint  from  Paris," 
remarked  Cicely.  "  Was  your  cousin  as  fashionable  as 
the  rest?  " 

"  Not  right  off,  he  wa'n't,"  admitted  Hitty ;  "  but 
when  he'd  ben  there  two  months,  he  could  give  points 
to  any  of  'em.  I'll  never  forgit  when  he  bust  out  in  a 
dress-suit.  He  was  goin'  to  a  dancin'  party,  an'  he 
wanted  to  go  in  style,  so  he  took  nineteen  dollars  o'  his 
hayin'-money  an'  bought  him  the  han'somest  dress-suit 
money  c'd  buy, —  fancy-cut,  an'  lined  all  through  the 
coat  with  cotton-back  satin  you  c'd  see  yore  face  in.  He 
come  home  an'  tried  it  on  t'  show  the  family,  an'  then 
he  was  so  tickled  with  himself  that  nothin'  'd  do  but  he 
must  go  over  t'  his  Uncle  Hiram's  house  (uncle  on  his 
father's  side),  an'  show  his  gran'mother.  '  Look  a-here, 
Grammy ! '  he  says.  '  What  d'ye  think  o'  this  ?  '  '  My 
soul  an'  body ! '  s'  she.  '  What  happened  t'  yore  coat, 
Ally?  Did  the  south-paster  bull  gore  ye?  The  front's 
all  tore  off !  '  she  says.  '  Shucks,  Grammy ! '  says  Ally, 
'  that's  the  style.  It's  evenin'  dress,'  s'  he.  '  Evenin' 
dress,  hey! '  says  Grammy,  disgusted.  '  Well,  I'd  ruther 
a  good  old-fashioned  nightshirt  any  day !  '  she  says.  That 
was  all  the  praise  he  got  out  o'  her;  an'  then  goin'  home 
he  walked  by  the  road  so's  to  show  off,  an'  Turner's 
little  boys  throwed  mud  at  him,  an'  old  Mis'  Rutherford 
took  him  for  an  arnachist  an'  set  the  dog  on  him.  An' 
then  at  the  party,  the  black  all  run  out  o'  the  linin'  s' 
bad  he  hed  to  scour  himself  with  sand-soap.  But  he 
said  'twas  wuth  standin'  a  few  adversities  for;  an'  after 


ARCADY  MISLAID  135 

all,  I  don't  s'pose  Solomon  himself  felt  real  comfterble 
when  he  was  fixed  up  in  his  tastiest  duds.  What  kind 
o'  soup'll  we  hev,  Mis'  Ford?  " 

At  this  leisurely  pace  the  discussion  of  the  dinner 
consumed  an  hour;  and  when  that  was  done,  there  were 
tradesmen  to  be  telephoned  to,  flowers  to  be  ordered  and 
arranged,  and  silver  to  be  laid  out.  Roger  returned  to 
find  a  busy,  animated  wife,  moving  briskly  about  the 
house  and  talking  quite  gaily  of  her  plans.  His  own 
spirits  leaped  up  in  instant  response.  It  was  something 
like  the  old  days,  before  the  Reign  of  Terror.  At 
luncheon,  having  a  subject  that  was  not  fraught  with 
danger,  they  talked  freely;  Roger  told  of  his  good  for- 
tune in  meeting  and  securing  the  six  leading  seniors  as 
they  were  coming  from  the  meeting  of  the  Student  Coun- 
cil, and  Cicely  recounted  her  menu  and  some  of  Kitty's 
locutions.  They  parted  cheerfully,  and  Roger  consumed 
a  deal  of  precious  time  hunting  through  the  local  florists' 
shops  for  a  spray  of  trailing  arbutus  (the  flower  which 
always  seemed  to  him  to  embody  Cicely's  quality  of  way- 
ward sweetness),  for  her  to  wear  that  night  in  her 
hair. 

Therefore,  in  spite  of  its  untoward  antecedents,  this 
entertainment  began  more  favourably  than  any  they  had 
yet  projected.  Cicely  was  glad  to  be  doing  something, 
Roger  was  glad  in  her  pleasure;  they  were  mutually  de- 
sirous of  success,  and  drawn  together  once  more  by  a 
common  interest.  Roger,  soberly  handsome  in  his  even- 
ing clothes,  looked  on  Cicely,  as  she  came  down  the  stairs 
(like  a  rosebud,  delicate  pink-and-white  from  the  trail- 
ing spray  in  her  hair  to  the  bows  on  her  satin  slippers), 


136    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

with  love  and  longing;  and  she,  reading  his  eyes,  told 
herself  with  a  suddenly  leaping  heart  that  as  soon  as 
the  sun  rose  she  would  creep  out  into  the  garden,  and 
find  the  lost  key. 

There  was  no  time,  however,  for  the  word  and  the  kiss 
that  might  have  made  all  things  right  again.  Hitty  was 
hovering  uneasily,  waiting  for  certain  nice  distinctions 
between  forks  to  be  elucidated  once  more;  and  then  the 
bell  rang,  and  Roger,  after  his  hearty  hospitable  habit 
(which  Cicely  disapproved  of,  and  Hitty  tacitly  encour- 
aged), went  himself  to  open  the  door;  and  while  he  was 
still  in  the  hall  with  the  first  guest,  another  came,  and 
another;  so  that  hearts  must  disappear  decorously,  and 
only  good  manners  be  visible.  Roger  piloted  the  guests 
to  the  drawing-room  a  little  reluctantly,  secretly  long- 
ing to  keep  his  wife  to  himself;  yet  happy,  too,  in  min- 
istering to  her  enjoyment. 

"  Cicely,  this  is  Mr.  Saunders,  our  prize  debater,"  he 
said, — "  and  Mr.  Hutchins,  leader  of  the  glee  club, — 
and  Mr.  Fulton,  editor-in-chief  of  the  '  News.'  Fellows, 
I  have  the  honour  of  presenting  you  to  my  wife." 

Cicely  came  forward,  hand  outstretched,  face  alight. 
"  Why,  how  nice!  "  she  said.  "  I've  met  you  all  before, 
—  at  the  President's  Reception, —  do  you  remember?" 

The  boys, —  all  clean-cut,  fine-looking  youngsters, — 
hurried  in  a  body  to  receive  her  greeting. 

"Do  we  remember?"  exclaimed  young  Hutchins. 
"  Why,  we've  been  talking  about  it  ever  since.  We've 
been  standing  on  our  heads  trying  to  find  out  who  you 
were.  But  we  went  at  it  wrong;  we  thought  you  were 


ARCADY  MISLAID  137 

—  that  is,  we  supposed  you  weren't  —  well,  you  see,  we 
didn't  have  any  idea  — " 

"  I  get  you,  my  boy !  "  said  Roger,  laughing  and  clap- 
ping him  on  the  shoulder.  "  You  didn't  know  she  was 
shackled  in  matrimony,  eh?  Well,  that's  where  I  had 
the  advantage  of  you, —  I've  known  it  for  six  months." 
He  went  off,  chuckling  merrily,  to  open  the  door  to  an- 
other arrival. 

"  Why,"  said  Cicely,  so  artlessly  that  they  all  laughed, 
"  I  should  think  anybody  could  see  I  was  married !  " 

"  Well,  you  see,"  said  young  Hutchins,  "  you  don't 
look  exactly  —  exactly  — " 

"  Downtrodden !  "  said  the  debater. 

"  Or  —  or  middle-aged !  "  ventured  the  editor-in-chief. 

"  Well,  but,"  said  Cicely,  wrinkling  her  brows,  "  don't 
I  look  matronly?  " 

At  this  they  all  shouted  with  laughter;  indeed  at  that 
moment,  in  her  rosebud  daintiness,  she  looked  hardly 
more  than  a  child.  But  Cicely  remained  serious  and 
puzzled.  She  herself  had  been  so  intensely  aware  of  her 
matronhood  that  she  had  supposed  it  stamped  upon  her  in 
raised  letters  for  all  to  read;  it  had  never  occurred  to 
her  that  any  one  could  miss  it. 

While  the  boys  were  still  laughing,  Roger  reappeared 
with  the  captain  of  the  crew, —  a  magnificent  young  giant, 
—  and  a  j  oily  little  roly-poly  who  was  president  of  the 
dramatic  club.  They  too  proved  to  be  known  to  Cicely, 
and  their  greetings  of  her  were  fervent.  Roger,  noting 
with  keen  pleasure  the  guests'  common  attitude  of  wor- 
shipful admiration,  beamed  on  them. 


138    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  What  a  galaxy  of  campus  lights !  "  he  said.  "  It 
would  make  any  freshman's  eyes  pop  out.  But  where's 
Maddox  ?  " 

"  He  was  comin'  with  me,"  said  the  jolly  little  plump 
boy,  Bowles,  "  but  I  got  tired  waitin'  for  him.  Spivvy's 
always  late;  he'd  make  a  good  messenger-boy." 

"  If  he  knew  who  he  was  going  to  see  he'd  be  early 
enough !  "  said  Hutchins  to  Cicely.  "  He's  the  one  that's 
tried  hardest  of  all  to  find  out  who  you  were." 

"Hasn't  he  just!"  joined  in  the  editor.  "Why,  he 
wanted  me  to  send  reporters  round  to  find  out  what 
families  had  girls  visiting  them;  and  he  even  held  up 
the  President  and  asked  him  if  there  was  any  new  prof, 
in  college  with  a  grown-up  daughter." 

"  Next  thing,"  remarked  little  Bowles,  "  he'd  have 
been  puttin'  an  ad  in  the  get-together  column, — '  Hand- 
some young  man  of  good  family  wants  to  connect  with 
beautiful  girl  who  juggled  the  Java  at  Prexy's  feed  ' — 
oh,  excuse  me,  Mrs.  Ford !  —  I  mean  poured  the  coffee  at 
the  President's  Reception.  I  get  so  used  to  consortin' 
with  hoboes  that  I  don't  know  how  to  talk  in  good 
society." 

"  Well,  perhaps  — "  began  Roger,  but  at  that  moment 
the  bell  rang  again,  and  he  hurried  away  to  answer  it. 

"  There  he  is !  "  said  Cicely.  "  I'm  quite  curious  to 
see  him." 

"He's  worth  seeing!"  said  the  big  crew  captain, 
warmly.  "  Finest  fellow  that  ever  grew, —  isn't  he, 
fellows  ?  " 

"  Cicely !  "  said   Roger  from  the  doorway.     "  Here's 


ARCADY  MISLAID  139 

the  chief  luminary  of  the  senior  class, —  the  president, 
Mr.—" 

"  Why,  Nuts!  "  cried  the  dark  boy;  and  darted  from 
behind  Roger  to  seize  Cicely's  hand. 

There  was  a  moment's  startled  pause.  Cicely  flushed 
hotly,  Roger  turned  as  violently  pale ;  the  boys  exchanged 
amazed  glances.  The  new  arrival  feasted  his  eyes  on 
Cicely's  face,  oblivious  of  the  stir  he  was  creating. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Roger,  collecting  himself,  and 
speaking  in  a  hoarse  voice  that  he  meant  to  make  cheery, 
"  here's  another  meeting  of  old  friends,  it  seems !  " 

This  loosed  the  boys'  tongues,  and  they  began  to  as- 
sail their  classmate  unanimously. 

"  Nuts  yourself !  "  said  the  crew  captain  indignantly. 
"  You're  the  nutty  one.  This  is  Mrs.  Ford." 

"  Yes,  you  old  goat,"  said  Hutchins.  "  What's  the 
matter  with  you  ?  Nice  way  to  behave  in  company  !  " 

"  You  go  put  yourself  in  hock,  Spivvy,  till  you  can 
learn  manners,"  admonished  Bowles  severely.  "  Mrs. 
Ford'll  take  you  for  a  fried  egg." 

The  dark  boy  looked  from  one  to  another,  and  then 
back  to  Cicely.  His  eyes  besought  her  to  say  that  these 
people  were  all  wrong,  and  he  and  she  the  only  ones  who 
understood.  But  Cicely,  alert  to  the  danger  in  the 
air,  had  other  concerns  than  allaying  his  anxiety;  she 
was  glancing  rapidly  about  the  room,  gathering  herself 
and  the  situation  into  hand  for  immediate  action. 

"  Don't  scold  Mr.  Maddox !  "  she  said  lightly.  "  He 
did  me  a  service  at  a  time  when  he  had  no  chance  to 
learn  my  name,  and  so  he  had  to  invent  one  for  himself. 


140    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Now  let's  go  in  to  dinner,  shall  we  ?  —  j  ust  helter-skelter, 
like  this."  She  led  the  way  as  she  spoke,  and  the  guests 
were  forced  to  follow  without  time  for  any  more  wonder- 
ment. 

The  pretty  dining-room,  all  soft  light  and  fragrance, 
promptly  diverted  their  thoughts  to  other  channels. 
Cicely  juggled  them  cleverly,  putting  the  most  animated 
next  to  Roger,  the  less  talkative  by  herself,  and  the  boy 
who  was  the  crux  of  the  situation  in  the  neutral  zone  at 
the  middle.  A  burst  of  cheerful  chatter  was  the  imme- 
diate result;  and  by  the  time  the  soup  had  been  served, 
the  awkward  moment  was  forgotten,  and  the  entertain- 
ment well  on  its  feet. 

Cicely  looked  around  her  with  a  half-bewildered  sense 
of  a  crisis  averted.  Even  now  the  memory  of  her  deal- 
ings with  this  boy  was  vague  and  misty;  she  had  used 
him  for  her  pleasure,  as  she  used  everything,  and  then 
had  promptly  forgotten  him  in  the  flood  of  unhappiness 
which  followed.  If  he  had  entered  her  mind  at  all,  it 
was  only  to  be  greeted  resentfully  as  the  cause  of  the 
last  bitterness  between  her  and  Roger.  Now  she  was 
hotly  indignant  at  his  reappearance;  just  when  things  had 
begun  to  be  a  little  better,  he  must  come  and  spoil  it 
all  with  his  silly  antics!  She  had  no  intention  of 
humouring  him;  he  had  made  trouble  enough.  She  kept 
her  eyes  determinedly  away  from  him,  and  concentrated 
her  will  on  making  the  evening  a  success. 

No  hostess  could  have  had  better  support.  These  de- 
lightful boys  all  had  the  ease  of  excellent  breeding;  they 
were  all  personalities,  the  chosen  leaders  of  the  campus 
life ;  and,  all  but  one,  they  were  in  exuberant  spirits.  As 


ARCADY  MISLAID  141 

Cicely's  challenging,  sparkling  smile  went  the  rounds  of 
the  table,  it  was  met  by  a  unanimous  response  of  smiles 
and  eager  talk. 

"  My,  we're  glad  we're  here,  Mrs.  Ford,"  said  the 
fluent  Hutchins.  "  You  don't  know  how  good  it  seems, 
after  eating  day  in  and  day  out  in  Commons,  with  all  the 
Great  Unwashed,  to  come  to  a  table  with  flowers  and 
candles  and  a  lady !  " 

Cicely  gave  him  a  gay  little  bow.  "  Piacere  il  mio!  " 
she  said.  "  Now,  let's  get  acquainted.  There  are  thou- 
sands of  things  I  want  to  ask  you ;  I  don't  know  anything 
about  American  college  life,  and  I  want  to  know  every- 
thing." 

"  Ask  me,  Mrs.  Ford,"  entreated  Hutchins.  "  I'm  the 
only  reliable  stude  here;  the  rest  are  buccaneers  and 
brigands." 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  jeered  little  Bowles.  "  That  sounds  well 
from  a  hardened  rusticator  like  you !  Take  it  from  me, 
Mrs.  Ford,  that  guy's  an  expert  in  more  lines  o'  crime 
than  anybody  in  the  Rogues'  Gallery.  Now,  if  you  want 
an  honest  man  — " 

"  Ask  me !  "  urged  Wallace,  the  captain.  "  I've  got 
all  the  statistics  of  this  institution  cold,  from  Prexy's  age 
down  to  how  much  Felton  grafts  out  of  the  "  News  " 
in  a  year.  As  a  repository  of  useful  facts,  I've  got  the1 
Farmers'  Almanac  beaten." 

"  Xo,  no,  Mrs.  Ford,  don't  trust  any  of  'em!  "  said  the 
debater,  Saunders.  "  I'm  the  Only  Original .  Fount  of 
Truth.  You  couldn't  match  me  from  the  rugged  confines 
of  the  Atlantic  to  the  sun-kissed  slopes  of  the  Pacific, — 
from  the  glittering  pinnacles  of  the  frozen  North  — " 


142    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Oh,  Lizzie!  "  groaned  the  plump  boy,  rolling  up  his 
eyes.  He  had  the  true  comedian's  quality ;  everything  he 
said  and  did  was  touched  with  drollery,  and  even  when 
he  did  nothing  at  all,  his  round  solemn  face  and  little 
turned-up  nose  were  exquisitely  funny. 

"  Well,  I  learned  it  out  of  Prexy's  speech  last  week," 
said  the  orator  defensively. 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  Bowles,  severely.  "  If  there  is 
a  worse  speaker  in  college  than  you,  it's  Prexy.  Ought 
to  know  better  than  to  crib  from  such  a  model, —  oughtn't 
he,  Mr.  Ford?  " 

Roger  smiled,  sympathetically  but  discreetly.  Cicely's 
carefully  fostered  atmosphere  of  frank  comradeship  had 
already  allayed  the  sharp  pang  that  the  dark  boy's  arrival 
had  cost  him;  seeing  her  gay  and  oblivious,  and  the  boy 
silent  and  unregarded,  he  was  fast  regaining  his  serenity. 

"  I  never  talk  before  newspaper  men,"  he  said  cheer- 
fully, nodding  towards  Felton.  "  First  law  of  self- 
preservation." 

"  That's  right,  too,"  approved  Saunders.  "  The  risk's 
too  great.  Many  a  reputation  has  been  torn  to  shreds 
by  that  sad-eyed  vulture  feeding  peacefully  yonder." 

Felton  smiled  good-naturedly  as  little  Bowles  poked 
him  in  the  ribs.  He  was  the  only  one  of  the  group  with 
no  sign  of  the  mental  twinkle  that  almost  universally  dis- 
tinguishes Young  America, —  an  earnest,  high-minded 
boy  with  eye-glasses  and  radical  views,  who  beheld  the 
fooling  of  his  mates  with  tolerant  indifference,  and  kept 
steadily  along  his  own  serious  path. 

"  You  ask  about  American  college  life,  Mrs.  Ford," 
he  said.  "  I'll  put  it  for  you  in  a  nutshell;  I've  thought 


ARCADY  MISLAID  143 

a  great  deal  about  it.  American  colleges  are  excellent 
pieces  of  machinery  for  grinding  out  graduates,  like 
sausages,  all  nicely  moulded  and  polished  on  the  outside. 
But  they  have  no  ideals.  We  go  into  the  machine  as 
raw  material,  we  get  minced  into  a  little  different  sem- 
blance, and  we  come  out  —  just  the  same  stuff  that  went 
in,  just  sausages.  Where  is  the  spiritual  inspiration  that 
ought  to  have  made  us  over  ?  Are  these  institutions  doing 
their  duty  to  the  country,  when  they  fail  to  provide  the 
vital  spark?  " 

"  Hear,  hear!  "  cried  Hutchins.  "  Old  Ink-pots  is  on 
the  war-path !  " 

"  Can  you  beat  that,  Sadie!  "  ejaculated  Bowles,  lift- 
ing his  plump  hands  in  a  gesture  of  dismay.  "  Sausages ! 
Handsome  little  things  like  us !  " 

"  I've  been  watching  this  thing  steadily,  during  the 
three  and  a  half  years  I've  been  in  college,"  continued 
the  earnest  Felton;  "  I've  watched  the  men  in  my  class, 
and  the  men  that  have  gone  out  in  my  time.  I  see  us 
marching  through  by  the  hundred,  as  good  stuff,  and  as 
fit  for  accomplishment,  as  you  could  find  anywhere  in  the 
world.  And  do  you  know  how  we  turn  out?  Nine  per 
cent,  of  us  go  into  work  that's  for  the  good  of  our  fellow- 
men,  and  the  other  ninety-one  divide  into  two  pursuits, 
money-making  and  trifling.  What  result  do  you  call  that 
for  the  time  and  money  and  brains  that  go  into  our  edu- 
cation? " 

"  Oh,  peanuts !  "  sighed  little  Bowles.  "  I  shall  never 
smile  again.  It's  crool  of  you,  Ink-pots." 

"  There's  a  great  deal  in  what  you  say,  Felton,"  said 
Roger  soberly.  "I  think  you  go  too  fast;  you  can't 


144    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

measure  the  results  of  a  man's  education  by  his  first 
year  out  of  college,  or  his  fifth ;  but  there's  no  doubt  that 
with  the  majority  the  right  kind  of  results  never  show. 
I  think  a  great  deal  about  it  too.  Ideals  are  the  most 
important  equipment  a  college  can  give, —  and  we  all 
want  to  give  them,  else  we  ought  never  to  have  come  into 
this  work.  But  we  don't.  There's  no  denying  it,  we 
don't." 

"  You  do,  Mr.  Ford !  "  said  Felton,  quickly.  "  It  was 
seeing  you,  and  the  sort  of  inspiration  you  give  to  the 
fellows  under  you,  that  first  put  this  idea  into  my  head. 
You  taught  me  in  my  freshman  year,  and  I  got  more 
public  spirit  out  of  your  science  than  I  ever  did  out  of 
anybody's  civics  or  ethics.  What  I  want  to  know  is, 
why  there  aren't  more  profs  like  you." 

Roger  turned  red  with  embarrassment  and  pleasure. 
"  You're  horsing  me,  Felton !  "  he  said.  "  There  isn't  a 
man  in  this  faculty  who  doesn't  give  more  than  I  do.  I'd 
like  to  give  something,  God  knows !  —  but  formulae  and 
experiments  don't  show  me  how.  You  got  it  out  of  your- 
self." 

At  this  a  chorus  of  protests  arose  from  the  other  guests. 
They  were  not,  they  remarked,  going  to  allow  old  Ink- 
pots, who  never  evolved  anything  from  his  inner  con- 
sciousness but  groans,  to  get  the  credit  for  the  "  spiritual 
hunches "  he  had  received  from  Roger.  They  all 
launched  at  once  into  encomiums  on  the  quality  of  Roger's 
influence,  young  Htitchins  avowing  himself  "  bats  on  him 
from  the  kick-off,"  and  little  Bowles  raising  his  hand 
to  swear  solemnly  that  he  had  become  "  a  changed  man  " 
the  moment  he  entered  Roger's  classroom.  Through  all 


ARCADY  MISLAID  145 

their  humorous  extravagance  their  warmly  affectionate 
admiration  showed  clearly. 

Cicely's  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure  at  their  tribute 
to  her  husband;  but  when  she  saw  the  earnest  Felton 
about  to  return  to  his  discourse,  she  changed  the  subject 
promptly.  If  these  ideals  they  were  talking  about  in- 
volved the  treating  of  janitors  as  blood-brothers,  she 
did  not  mean  to  countenance  them;  and  if  they  were  just 
vague  abstractions  about  the  welfare  of  the  race,  they 
were  not  worth  bothering  with.  She  was  too  young,  too 
completely  absorbed  in  her  own  problems,  to  pro- 
ject her  sympathies  beyond  her  immediate  horizon. 
It  is  an  accomplishment  that  comes  slowly  to  women 
trained  in  selfishness. 

"  I  want  to  know  about  the  college  play,"  she  said 
briskly.  "  Who  acts  it,  who  writes  it,  and  when  does 
it  happen  ?  " 

"  Ah,  you've  come  to  the  right  place  for  that !  "  Hut- 
chins  told  her.  "  Look  at  this  majestic  form  beside  me,  in 
which  Booth,  Salvini  and  the  Tragic  Muse  live  again; 
he's  the  chap  to  tell  you  all  about  the  mission  of  the 
stage.  Speak  up,  Bolster." 

The  president  of  the  dramatic  association  placed  his 
hand  on  his  heart,  and  bowed  with  grandeur.  "  You  un- 
derrate me,"  he  said  to  his  neighbour,  "  but  I'll  pass  that 
by.  I  had  thought,  Mrs.  Ford,  of  givin'  to  the  public  a 
flippant  trifle  by  a  strugglin'  quill-driver  called  Shake- 
speare, in  which  I  was  goin'  to  represent  a  melancholy 
Dane  who's  the  livin'  image  of  me;  but  the  high-brows 
overruled  me.  Instead,  we  are  goin'  to  produce  the 
tragedy  of  '  Cheltenham  Chops,'  which  was  written  by 


146     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

our  learned  friend  Professor  Maddox,  and  in  which  he'll 
play  the  handsome  hero,  or  I'll  know  the  reason  why. 
You  can  elucidate  your  '  draymer,'  Spivvy ;  you're  the 
one  that  gets  real  heartfelt  satisfaction  talkin'  about  it." 

Cicely  looked  inevitably,  for  the  first  time,  at  the  boy 
of  her  adventure,  and  as  she  did  so  she  gave  an  imper- 
ceptible start.  All  this  time,  in  her  selfish  preoccupa- 
tion, she  had  never  once  thought  of  what  the  affair  might 
have  brought  to  him;  and  now  his  white,  drawn  face 
and  eyes  of  bewildered  suffering  smote  her  with  an  al- 
most physical  pang.  The  resentment  went  out  of  her, 
and  a  rush  of  half-maternal  sympathy  took  its  place. 
He  was,  like  herself,  a  spoiled  child,  hurt,  and  angrily  as- 
tonished that  pain  should  dare  to  come  to  him;  she  un- 
derstood him  instinctively,  and  knew  what  heat  of  indig- 
nant misery  was  burning  in  him.  In  a  flash  she  had 
constituted  herself  his  champion  and  protector. 

"  Mr.  Maddox  is  too  modest  to  tell  his  own  glory,"  she 
said,  turning  back  to  Bowles,  "  and  I'm  too  awe-struck  to 
accost  him.  Playwright,  hero, —  what  else  is  he?  Man- 
ager? Heroine?  " 

"  Not  much !  "  said  the  other  dramatic  light,  indig- 
nantly. "  Spivvy  is  a  great  man,  but  I'm  not  goin'  to 
see  him  hog  the  whole  show.  Tink  Lambert  is  the  man- 
ager, and  the  heroine  —  now  couldn't  you  tell  it  at  a 
glance?  Tis  I!" 

"To  think  of  that!"  exclaimed  Cicely.  "President, 
playwright,  hero  and  heroine  at  one  and  the  same  mo- 
ment, all  at  my  humble  board!  What  is  there  left  for 
me?  " 

'  Nothin',  Mrs.  Ford,"  said  the  heroine  impressively. 


ARCADY  MISLAID  14T 

"  You've  reached  the  tipmost  top.  It  is  written,  '  See 
Maddox  and  Bowles,  and  then  die/ —  only  don't  die  be- 
fore February  sixth,  or  you'll  miss  the  crownin'  thrill. 
Tickets  one  dollar  for  adults,  and  fifty  cents  for  infants, 
imbeciles  and  studes.  Lovely  ladies  free,  by  invitation 
of  the  management."  He  bowed  profoundly,  and  the 
others  all  thumped  on  the  table  in  applause  of  his  gal- 
lantry. 

Roger,  watching  Cicely  as  she  made  her  pretty  gesture 
of  acknowledgment,  was  happier  than  he  had  been  for 
many  a  day.  Cicely  had  seemed,  in  all  this  cloud  of  es- 
trangement and  pain,  to  be  slipping  away  from  him;  but 
now  the  atmosphere  of  gaiety  and  good  cheer  brought  her 
near  again,  and  he  felt  as  full  of  ecstatic  hope  as  he 
had  at  the  very  beginning  of  their  life  together.  His 
eyes  were  fastened  on  her  face,  and  his  heart  was  in 
them.  So  sweet  a  Cicely, —  so  full  of  precious  promise ! 
Surely,  surely,  now  he  would  find  and  keep  her. 

She  saw  the  look  in  his  eyes,  and,  suddenly  yearning 
to  him  almost  as  he  did  to  her,  pushed  back  her  chair  and 
rose.  "  Come,  lordings !  "  she  said.  "  I  want  to  show 
my  gratitude  for  your  good  company.  This  room  is  too 
little  for  spirits  as  great  as  ours."  And,  impetuous  and 
light-footed,  she  hurried  them  off  to  the  drawing-room 
again. 

"  No,  no  coffee !  "  she  said,  shaking  her  head  as  the 
neat-handed  laundress  approached  her  with  the  tray. 
"  Somebody  else  pour  it.  I  want  to  sing."  She  slipped 
into  her  place  at  the  piano.  It  was  true  that  the  little 
dining-room  had  suddenly  seemed  too  small  for  her; 
she  was  impelled  to  make  music,  to  pour  herself  out  to 


148     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Roger  in  the  form  of  expression  that  was  instinctive  with 
her.  For  a  moment  her  fingers  strayed  over  the  keys, 
seeking  a  melody  that  suited  her  mood;  and  then,  softly, 
she  began  to  sing.  "  Still  wie  die  Nacht,  tief  wie  das 
Meer — !  "  And  as  she  sang,  her  voice,  over  the  melt- 
ing, flowing  accompaniment,  took  on  its  strangely  poig- 
nant quality  of  a  tenderness  almost  tragic,  a  passion- 
ate sweet  sincerity;  she  was  singing  with  her  heart,  sing- 
ing to  Roger. 

Her  music  laid  a  spell  upon  the  room.  The  boys'  ef- 
fervescence passed,  and  an  enthralled  earnestness  took 
its  place;  little  by  little  the  small  sounds  of  restlessness 
ceased,  and  above  a  deep  hush  her  lovely  voice  soared 
throbbing.  As  for  Roger,  he  gave  up  at  once  his  clumsy 
fumblings  with  the  coffee-cups,  .and,  with  a  great  sigh 
of  happiness,  turned  his  head  so  that  he  could  not  see 
the  others,  and  yielded  himself  to  dreams.  Apart  from 
the  wistful  ecstasy  which  her  singing  always  stirred  in 
him,  this  song  came  freighted  with  messages.  It  was 
the  song  she  had  sung  on  the  night  after  she  had  promised 
herself  to  him,  when  she  could  not  let  her  eyes  speak  to 
him  before  all  the  curious  eyes  in  her  uncle's  great  rooms, 
but  had  spoken,  even  as  now,  in  music:  and  afterwards, 
during  that  wonderful  honeymoon  in  the  gray  castle  by 
the  French  sea,  she  had  sung  it  at  his  beseeching  one 
night  in  the  garden,  with  the  old  trees  whispering  above 
them,  and  the  ocean  crooning  the  obbligato  that  her 
hands, —  held  fast  in  his, —  could  not  play.  With  his 
eyes  closed  he  lived  it  over  again, —  that  first  evening, 
when  among  all  the  glitter  and  gaiety  he  and  she  alone 


ARCADY  MISLAID  149 

seemed  real,  she  singing  her  heart  out  to  him,  he  afire 
with  wonder  and  delight :  —  and  that  later  night  in  the 
old  castle  garden,  the  moonshine,  the  flower-fragrance, 
the  faint  salty  breath  of  the  sea,  and  Cicely's  sweet  body 
quivering  within  his  arm  with  the  stress  of  her  singing. 
Precious,  ineffable  days!  Now  they  were  coming  back 
again ;  they  had  only  been  lost  for  a  little  while. 

The  music  ceased,  and,  at  a  sound  of  movement,  Roger 
turned  back  again  to  reality.  He  was  half-blind  with 
dreams ;  he  almost  expected  to  see  Cicely  alone,  as  in  the 
garden,  faintly  haloed  with  moonlight  and  starlight;  or 
surrounded  only  by  those  thronging  phantoms  of  Paris 
who  had  seemed  less  real  than  shadows.  But  instead,  he 
found  himself  back  in  the  little  room  that  had  been  so 
dreary  of  late,  shut  away  from  Cicely  by  the  boys  who 
made  up  his  daily  life.  And  as  his  eyes  sought  eagerly 
to  meet  his  wife's,  they  were  suddenly  cut  off  from  their 
goal  by  the  dark  boy,  Maddox,  who  darted  across  the 
room  as  if  he  had  been  hypnotised,  and  bent  over  Cicely 
to  claim  the  smile  that  should  have  been  his. 

Roger  turned  his  eyes  away  with  a  pang  so  fierce  and 
sudden  that  it  robbed  him  of  his  breath.  For  a  moment 
he  saw  a  red  mist.  His  civilised  over-mind  talked  to  him 
sanely,  saying  that  jealousy  was  savagery,  that  he  was 
a  Turk,  a  barbarian;  that  perfect  love  casteth  out  fear: 
but  it  was  no  use ;  something  rudely,  primitively  masculine 
in  him  shouted  denial.  He  clenched  the  arms  of  his 
chair  until  his  fingers  were  white,  fighting  for  self- 
mastery;  and  when,  with  difficulty,  he  had  attained  it,  he 
went  brusquely  to  the  corner  farthest  away  from  the 


150    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

piano,  and  flung  himself  into  a  rapid  and  disjointed  con- 
versation with  the  boys  nearest  him  to  keep  from  seeing 
Cicely. 

Cicely,  meantime,  had  set  herself  deliberately  to  the 
comforting  of  her  friend.  His  pain-white  face  and  tragic 
eyes  oppressed  her;  and,  now  that  she  had  made  all 
things  right  between  herself  and  Roger,  she  wished  to  see 
him  happy  too.  Moreover,  besides  his  own  charm,  which 
had  reasserted  itself  swiftly  and  potently  as  soon  as  she 
gave  it  a  chance,  he  had  for  her  that  nameless  appeal 
(compact  of  pity,  tenderness,  and  remorse),  of  a  man  for 
the  woman  who  has  made  him  love  her.  Unconsciously, 
—  but  inevitably,  for  she  was  all  woman, —  she  wooed 
him  to  make  him  smile  again. 

"  Oh,  how  you  sing !  "  said  the  boy,  spellbound.  "  How 
wonderful  you  are !  " 

"  You  like  it?  "  asked  Cicely,  dimpling  at  him. 

"Like  it!"  said  the  boy,  with  a  long-drawn  breath. 
"  It's  as  beautiful  —  as  beautiful  as  you!  " 

"All  that!  "  said  Cicely,  laughing.  "  Then  I'll  do  it 
again.  What  will  you  have?  " 

The  boy  named  off-hand  the  songs  of  his  choice, —  old 
and  dear  songs,  "  Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes," 
"  Loch  Lomond,"  "  Bonny  Boon," —  and  stood  by  her, 
falling  more  deeply  and  recklessly  in  love  with  every 
moment,  and  every  note  of  her  sorrowful  rich  voice.  She, 
coaxing  him  back  to  contentment,  made  him  the  centre  of 
the  group;  if  another  asked  for  a  song,  she  would  not 
give  it  without  the  boy's  consent;  and  when  he  smiled, 
she  looked  triumphant,  and  nodded  gaily  towards  Roger. 
She  sang  again  and  again,  untiring  as  a  bird. 


ARCADY  MISLAID  151 

"  Oh,  I  am  happy !  "  she  thought.  "  My  Badger  and 
I  love  each  other;  and  the  Boy  is  smiling.  Oh,  what  a 
lovely  world !  Soon,  soon  —  when  they  go  —  I  will  slip 
into  the  garden  and  find  the  key:  for  we  are  lovers  again." 

At  last, —  reluctant,  but  obedient  to  their  training, — 
the  boys  rose  to  depart.  Cicely  sped  them  gladly,  with 
gay  speeches  in  answer  to  their  fervent  gratitude.  The 
room  was  alive  again  with  merry  chatter:  "Good-bye, 
Mrs.  Ford;  I've  had  the  bulliest  time" — "Not  a  bit 
bullier  than  I  have,  Mr.  Wallace !  " — "  Good-bye,  Mrs. 
Ford;  won't  you  please  ask  me  again?  "  "  Yes,  if  you'll 
promise  to  come  soon!"  "Good-bye,  Mrs.  Ford;  now 
don't  go  forgettin'  the  play  and  the  lovely  leadin'  lady, 
will  you?" — "Indeed  I  never  shall!  I'll  be  there  be- 
fore the  footlights  are  on,  sitting  in  —  what  do  you  call 
it  ?  —  the  baldhead  row !  " 

The  dark  boy  was  the  last  to  say  farewell.  His  eyes, 
though  still  sombre,  had  absorbed  a  little  of  her  smile,  and 
he  looked  more  like  himself.  He  took  her  hand  in 
silence,  and  something  in  his  look  of  rapt  devotion  as  he 
bent  over  her  recalled  mistily  to  Cicely  the  moment  of 
their  other  farewell.  She  looked  after  him  in  some  per- 
plexity. There  was  something  he  had  given  her  then, — 
something  she  ought  to  return  to  him  —  Oh  yes,  the  pin ! 
—  the  wicked  little  pin  that  had  turned  Roger  into  a 
brute.  In  her  soreness  and  anger,  she  had  thrust  it  out 
of  her  sight  in  a  dark  corner  of  an  unused  jewel-box, 
and  had  not  allowed  herself  to  think  of  it.  Now  she  ran 
swiftly  up  the  stairs,  to  get  it  and  return  it  and  have  done 
with  skeletons  forever. 

The  boy  had  gone  when  she  came  down,  and  Roger 


152     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

was  in  the  drawing-room  fastening  the  windows.  Cicely 
crept  to  the  outer  door;  perhaps  she  could  still  catch  her 
friend;  and  then,  her  errand  done,  she  would  recapture 
the  key  and  steal  back  again  without  Roger's  being  any 
the  wiser.  She  meant  to  have  no  scene  of  reconciliation, 
that  would  involve  too  many  damaging  admissions:  she 
would  unlock  the  closed  door;  she  would  slip  her  hand 
into  Roger's;  and  all  would  be  right  again. 

Surely  enough,  the  boy  was  lingering  outside, —  loath 
to  leave  the  spot,  looking  in  vain  for  Cicely's  window. 
Cicely  ran  to  him,  holding  out  the  pin. 

"  Boy !  "  she  said  softly.     "  Boy !     Take  this !  " 

He  turned  to  her  with  a  low  exclamation  and  a  trans- 
figured face.  "  Oh,  Nuts  !  "  he  said.  "  You're  giving  me 
something?  " 

"  It's  your  pin,"  said  Cicely.     "  Take  it,  please." 

The  colour  rushed  over  his  face  so  violently  that 
Cicely  could  see  it  in  the  moonlight.  "  Oh,  don't,  don't !  " 
he  cried.  "  Oh,  Nuts,  please  don't  give  it  back !  I  can't 
bear  it." 

"  You  must  take  it,  quickly,"  urged  Cicely.  "  It's 
yours." 

"  I  can't,"  said  the  boy  brokenly,  putting  his  hands  be- 
hind him.  "  Nuts,  you  don't  know  what  this  is  to  me, — 
to-night,  and  —  and  finding  you  here,  and  —  and  who  you 
are.  You  —  you  don't  know  what  else  I've  been  dream- 
ing of  giving  you,  all  these  days.  But  the  pin  —  any- 
way, I've  given  that  to  you!  nothing  can  undo  that!  If 
you  won't  keep  it,  throw  it  on  the  ground  and  let  it  lie; 
but  I'll  never  take  it  again.  O  Nuts,  don't  make  me! 
You'll  break  my  heart  if  you  do." 


ARCADY  MISLAID  153 

Cicely  looked  uncertainly  at  the  pin,  as  it  lay  in  her 
outstretched  hand.  It  seemed  a  little  thing  to  yield,  and 
a  churlish  one  to  refuse ;  and  the  boy's  beseeching  eyes 
were  hard  to  resist. 

He  saw  his  advantage,  and  pressed  it.  "  Please  do  this 
one  thing  for  me !  "  he  pleaded.  "  I'll  never  ask  you  to 
do  another.  It  won't  hurt  you  if  you  keep  it,  but  it  will 
kill  me  if  you  don't.  Oh,  please,  please,  please !  " 

"  Well  — "  said  Cicely  slowly. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Nuts !  "  cried  the  boy  fervently.  He 
seized  her  hand  and  crushed  it  until  the  pin  bit  the  flesh ; 
then,  turning  swiftly,  he  plunged  away  into  the  night. 

Cicely  looked  after  him  with  a  sigh.  He  was  very 
charming,  and  very  pathetic.  However,  she  had  no  time 
for  sentiment  with  this  more  important  errand  await- 
ing her;  and,  shivering  a  little  with  cold  and  excitement, 
she  soon  withdrew  her  gaze  from  the  boy's  vanishing 
figure,  and  crept  softly  around  the  house  to  the  little 
moonlit  garden. 

It  was  not  a  very  difficult  matter  to  find  the  key.  If 
the  truth  were  to  be  told,  Cicely  had  slipped  out  more 
than  once  in  these  past  miserable  days  to  make  sure  that 
it  still  lay  safely  on  the  hard  ground  beneath  the  leaf- 
less rose-bushes,  and  each  time  she  had  pushed  it  a  little 
farther  out  of  its  hiding-place.  Perhaps,  even  while  her 
own  stubborn  will  refused  to  yield,  she  had  secretly  hoped 
that  Roger, —  more  generous, —  would  perceive  and  an- 
swer its  mute  appeal.  Now  she  saw  it  plainly,  gleaming 
in  the  moonlight;  and,  catching  it  up  gladly,  ran  with  it 
to  the  little  house. 

Roger  had  missed  her  for  some  minutes,  and  had  been 


154    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

calling  her  anxiously.  Now,  telling  himself  that  she  was 
upstairs,  and  perhaps  did  not  hear  him, —  and  perhaps 
did  not  want  to, —  he  was  locking  the  door.  She  ran  up 
the  steps  and  pounded  on  it  with  her  fists,  crying  gaily, 
"  Let  me  into  your  cave,  old  Badger !  Let  me  in !  " 

Roger  started  at  the  summons,  and  his  face  darkened. 
He  was  still  gnawed  by  a  jealousy  he  could  not  subdue; 
as  he  locked  the  front  windows  he  had  seen  the  boy  linger- 
ing behind  the  rest,  and  while  his  pride  and  chivalry 
would  not  permit  him  to  look  out  again,  a  hateful  mis- 
giving lurked  in  his  mind.  Now,  when  Cicely  ran  in  cold 
and  sparkling  out  of  the  night,  with  her  hands  tightly 
shut  and  her  eyes  shining,  the  savage  instinct  rose  in  him 
so  powerfully  that  it  mastered  his  determined  self-repres- 
sion. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Cicely  ?  "  he  asked,  in  that 
hoarse,  passionate  voice  that  was  so  new  to  him. 

"  Out-doors,  to  be  sure '  "  said  Cicely,  hardly  catching 
the  note  in  this  first  instant  of  light  and  warmth.  "  Did 
you  think  this  was  a  new  way  of  coming  up  from  the 
cellar?" 

"  What  did  you  go  out  for?  "  asked  Roger,  grimly  dis- 
regarding her  flippancy. 

This  time  Cicely  was  fully  aware  of  his  tone,  and 
flamed  in  answer  to  it.  "  What  right  have  you  to  ask 
me  that?  "  she  demanded. 

"What  right  have  you  to  force  me  to  it?"  retorted 
Roger.  "  And  what  is  that  in  your  hand?  " 

Cicely  hesitated  the  fraction  of  a  second.  It  would 
have  been  so  easy,  even  now,  to  open  the  hand  that  held 
the  key,  and  open  Roger's  hungry  arms  as  well:  but 


ARCADY  MISLAID  155 

Cicely, —  hot-hearted,  flaming,  uncontrolled, —  could  no 
more  have  done  it  than  have  made  the  sun  stop  blazing. 
She  flung  out  the  other  hand,  opening  it;  and  there  on 
the  palm  lay  the  little  gleaming  pin. 

"  The  gift  of  a  friend,"  she  said  calmly. 

"  Ah!  "  said  Roger  hoarsely;  and,  not  trusting  himself 
to  words,  he  tramped  away  from  her  up  the  stairs. 

Cicely  hesitated  a  minute,  her  eyes  burning  and  her  two 
hands  clenched  again.  Then,  reopening  the  door,  she 
went  to  the  brink  of  the  back-porch  steps,  and,  with  a 
violent  effort,  threw  the  key  as  far  as  her  strength  could 
send  it.  This  time  she  closed  her  eyes  and  turned 
away  her  head,  to  have  no  memory  of  where  it  fell. 


VII 

ANOTHER    BLOW    ON    THE    DIPLOMATIC    WEDGE 

THE  winter  had  now  closed  in,  and  the  chastened  but  con- 
tinuous gaiety  of  the  college  world  was  in  full  swing. 
Cicely  was  besieged  by  invitations ;  her  fame  had  grown 
steadily,  and  she  was  already  so  much  of  a  personage 
as  to  be  greatly  in  demand  in  a  semi-official  capacity, — 
assisting  at  receptions,  chaperoning,  after  our  quaint 
fashion,  dancing-parties  of  young  people  anywhere  from 
one  to  ten  years  her  seniors,  and  being  put  on  the  list 
of  "  patronesses  "  for  charity  enterprises.  She  flitted 
feverishly  from  house  to  house,  bored  beyond  measure  by 
the  constant  activity,  yet  panic-stricken  at  the  thought  of 
a  break  in  it.  How  should  she,  who  had  never  had  even 
a  bowing  acquaintance  with  her  own  soul,  find  courage  to 
face  and  probe  it  now,  in  this  first  great  crisis  ?  She  was 
afraid  to  sit  still,  afraid  to  think;  life  was  confronting 
her  with  strange  and  grim  problems,  and  she  tried  to 
evade  them  by  burying  her  head,  ostrich-like,  in  one 
trivial  preoccupation  after  another. 

Roger  watched  her  with  an  aching  heart  and  a  stony 
face.  He  saw  well  enough  that  marriage  had  not 
brought  her  happiness,  and  as  for  himself,  he  too, — 
courageous  of  spirit  though  he  was, —  was  afraid  to> 
plumb  the  depths  of  disappointment  and  misgiving  within 

156 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     157 

him.  As  she  plunged  more  and  more  violently  into  her 
social  activities,  he  immersed  himself  deeper  and  deeper 
in  work,  and  withdrew  increasingly  into  the  fastnesses 
of  his  natural  reserve,  separating  his  interests  entirely 
from  hers  in  a  vain  hope  that  freedom  might  bring  her 
joy.  They  met  only  at  meals,  and  talked  like  polite 
strangers. 

Roger's  withdrawal  was  the  more  easily  effected,  be- 
cause claims  of  which  Cicely  knew  nothing  were  pressing 
him  hard.  The  debts,  accumulating  steadily,  had 
mounted  into  a  pyramid  of  appalling  proportions;  buy- 
ing and  furnishing  the  little  house,  and  financing  that 
care-free  honeymoon  by  the  French  sea,  had  exhausted 
Roger's  capital,  and  in  his  cheerful  counting  on  his  future 
salary  he  had  reckoned  without  his  wife's  tastes  and 
habits.  Now,  shackled  by  false  chivalry,  he  could  not 
teach  her  the  plain  truth  and  give  her  the  chance  to  de- 
velop into  a  woman  by  sharing  his  problems:  instead,  he 
let  her  go  headlong  from  one  folly  to  another,  while  he 
wrestled  with  the  results  alone.  His  own  small  special 
pleasures  (subscriptions  to  foreign  periodicals,  member- 
ships in  one  or  two  clubs  and  three  or  four  scientific 
societies,  occasional  indulgences  in  book-buying),  had 
long  since  gone  by  the  board ;  and  now  he  relinquished  his 
daily  exercise,  and  the  research  work  that  was  his  in- 
tellectual delight  and  surety  of  professional  success,  and 
devoted  every  possible  minute  to  the  hated  but  lucrative 
drudgery  of  tutoring.  What  with  worry  and  overwork 
and  heartache,  he  was  jaded  almost  to  exhaustion;  and 
his  physical  weariness  intensified  the  cold  impassivity  of 
his  bearing. 


158     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Cicely,  incapable  herself  of  passive  endurance,  saw 
him  going  farther  and  farther  from  her  with  anguished 
rebellion.  In  her,  emotion  was  a  fierce  flame,  which  must 
either  blaze  or  die;  she  was  terrified  by  this  barrier  of 
reserve  and  silentness  that  gave  no  hint  of  what  it  hid. 
Though  far  too  wilfully  stubborn  herself  to  yield  an  inch 
of  her  own  ground,  she  began  inevitably  to  fight  to  make 
him  come  forth  from  his ;  there  must  be  some  change,  and 
Roger,  clearly,  must  be  the  one  to  make  it.  Yet  she 
dared  not,  at  this  strained  moment,  risk  a  direct  attack; 
to  lure  him  forth  by  strategy  to  some  neutral  ground 
would  be,  she  thought,  the  only  safe  course. 

"  Come  with  me  to  the  Miltons'  reception,  Roger !  " 
she  said  one  afternoon,  entering  the  study  in  festal  garb. 
"  It's  going  to  be  a  beautiful  one." 

"  I  can't,"  said  Roger.  "  I  have  tutoring  engagements 
till  seven  o'clock." 

"  This  appetite  of  yours  for  work  is  getting  over- 
grown," commented  she.  "  Give  it  up  for  a  while." 

"  I  can't,"  repeated  Roger  briefly. 

"  I  really  think  you  might,"  insisted  Cicely.  "  You've 
hardly  taken  time  to-day  to  eat  your  meals." 

"It's  impossible,  Cicely!"  said  Roger;  and  his  over- 
driven feeling  of  fatigue,  hurry  and  anxiety  made  him 
add  sharply,  "  Please  don't  ask  me  again." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Cicely,  retreating  in  some  alarm 
to  another  position^but  determined  not  to  give  up  hef 
purpose,  "  I'll  have  to  invite  some  people  here.  You're 
getting  to  be  a  perfect  hermit.  You  ought  to  meet  your 
fellow-men." 

Roger  groaned  inwardly,  but  would  not  oppose  her 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE    159 

more  than  he  could  avoid.  "  Very  well,"  he  said.  "  Do 
as  you  please;  only  I  have  to  work  now." 

"  Oh,  good  for  you,  Roger !  "  cried  Cicely,  clapping  her 
hands.  Her  impetuous  spirits  rose  with  a  leap;  once 
they  had  a  common  interest  again  she  was  sure  she 
could  somehow  contrive  to  draw  him  back  to  her. 
"I'll  give  an  'at  home,'  then, —  let  me  see, —  on  the 
twenty-ninth  of  January;  and  I'll  ask  some  of  the  De- 
partment wives  to  pour,  and  Clarissa  to  receive  with 
me." 

Roger  lifted  his  head  from  his  papers.  "  I  wish  you'd 
ask  Mrs.  Davidson  instead,"  he  said. 

Cicely's  mood  veered  suddenly.  "  I  don't  see  why," 
she  returned  coldly. 

"  I've  told  you  more  than  once,"  said  Roger,  looking 
at  her. 

"  Clarissa's  much  more  interesting,"  declared  Cicely, 
with  emphasis.  ' 

"  Mrs.  Davidson  is  a  much  better  friend,"  said  Roger 
firmly. 

"  What  have  you  against  Clarissa?  "  demanded  Cicely, 
the  ready  flush  rising  to  her  cheeks. 

Roger  read  the  danger-signals,  and  tried  to  answer 
lightly.  "  Oh,  well, —  she  calls  you  Cissy,"  he  said. 
"  That's  more  than  any  husband  could  stand." 

"  You  needn't  worry  about  that,"  said  Cicely.  "  I  get 
back  at  her;  I  call  her  Risky, — ^hich  is  worse,  and 
suits  her  into  the  bargain.  So  that's  all  right,- and  I'll 
ask  her." 

But  on  this  point  Roger  was  invincibly  stubborn. 
"  Ask  Mrs.  Davidson  too,  then,"  he  said. 


160    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  It's  impossible/'  said  Cicely  decidedly.  "  Those 
two  hate  each  other." 

"  Then  ask  Mrs.  Davidson  alone/'  persisted  Roger. 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  should,"  said  Cicely  defiantly. 

"  Because  she  has  done  more  for  you  than  any  one  in 
Cheltenham,  and  you  have  never  offered  any  return  for 
her  hospitality,"  said  Roger  decidedly,  "  and  because  I 
won't  have  her  slighted  again.  I  must  insist,  Cicely." 

Cicely  perceived  that  his  tone  was  not  to  be  gainsaid. 
"  Oh,  very  well,"  she  said  coldly.  "  I'll  tell  her  it's  your 
wish."  And  so,  her  new  burst  of  spirits  already  deadened, 
she  left  him  without  a  farewell,  and  went  away  to  her 
engagement. 

§ 

The  reception  to  which  she  was  bound  was  held  at  one 
of  the  few  "  great  houses  "  of  Cheltenham.  The  hosts 
were  pleasant,  conventional  people,  with  the  cultivation 
produced  by  much  travel  and  much  social  experience,  and 
without  an  ounce  of  originality  between  them.  Cicely 
had  known  so  many  of  their  sort  all  her  life  that  she 
had  warmed  to  them  at  once;  their  beautiful  house,  their 
quietly  sumptuous  raiment,  the  perfection  of  ordered  lux- 
ury that  surrounded  them,  brought  her  at  once  into  an 
accustomed  atmosphere,  and  obviated  the  need  of  any 
deeper  congeniality.  She  had  entered  into  a  degree  of 
intimacy  with  them,  and  gave  them  the  sort  of  affection 
that  a  kitten  gives  to  a  very  comfortable  lap. 

As  soon  as  Cicely  had  entered  the  beautifully  decorated 
rooms  and  greeted  the  bland  hostesses,  Mrs.  Reynolds 
came  strolling  towards  her,  very  striking  in  a  big  black 
hat  that  suited  her  lazy  beauty. 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     161 

"  I've  been  Sister- Anning  by  the  window,  watching  for 
you,  Cissy/'  she  remarked.  "  I  can't  go  into  that  din- 
ing-room without  a  kindred  spirit.  I  hear  the  eats  are 
simply  divine." 

"  The  whole  thing  is  very  nice,"  said  Cicely,  looking 
around  her  critically.  "  That's  beautiful,  that  banking 
of  orchids  and  maidenhair, —  and  the  library,  with  the 
American  Beauties  and  smilax, —  yes,  it's  really  charm- 
ing. Risky,  I'm  going  to  have  an  '  at-home  '  myself." 

"  You  are !     When  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds. 

"  The  twenty-ninth  of  January,"  said  Cicely.  "  Will 
you  come?  " 

"  Depends  on  which  kind  of  an  at-home  it  is,"  returned 
Mrs.  Reynolds  non-committally. 

"  Which  kind?  "  repeated  Cicely.  "  Why,  there's  only 
one  kind,  isn't  there, —  the  talking-and-eating  kind?  " 

"  Xo,  there  are  two,"  stated  her  oracle;  "the  decent, 
civilised  kind,  like  this,  and  the  academic,  genteel-pauper, 
home-made-food-and-clothes  kind.  I  won't  come  if  it's 
the  usual  academic  stunt." 

Cicely  was  silent  a  moment,  thinking.  Mrs.  Reynolds 
had  a  very  strong  influence  upon  her ;  she  could  never  be 
five  minutes  in  her  friend's  presence  without  imbibing  her 
friend's  opinions ;  and  now,  in  the  midst  of  this  delightful 
luxury,  there  really  seemed  but  one  possible  point  of 
view.  She  had  a  rapid  vision  of  the  kind  of  function 
Roger  would  prefer,  with  Mrs.  Davidson  presiding  in  an 
ancient  gown,  and  Hitty  thrusting  food  at  the  guests  in 
her  point-of-the-bayonet  manner;  and  instantly,  forget- 
ting her  purpose  in  embarking  on  the  undertaking,  she 
made  her  decision. 


162     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  It's  going  to  be  this  kind;  "  said  she,  "  and  I  want 
you  to  receive  with  me.  Will  you  ?  " 

"  Will  I  not!  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds  with  alacrity.  "  I'll 
have  a  new  gown  for  it.  A  proper  spirit  like  yours 
deserves  encouraging." 

"  I'll  find  out  from  Mrs.  Milton  who  her  florist  is/'  said 
Cicely,  reflecting  aloud,  "  and  engage  him  right  away. 
And  I'll  get  her  caterer,  too;  Le  Fils  is  well  enough  for  a 
dinner,  but  I  ought  to  have  some  one  from  the  city  for 
a  big  affair.  And, —  let  me  see  —  she  had  her  cards 
from  Tiffany's;  I  will  too." 

"  That's  the  way  to  talk !  "  applauded  Mrs.  Reynolds. 
"  Since  you're  such  a  sport,  I'll  go  to  Beatrice  for  my 
gown;  I'd  hate  to  lower  the  tone  of  the  affair." 

"  There's  that  about  it,  too,"  said  Cicely  thoughtfully. 
"  I  have  to  consider  the  general  effect.  I  believe  I  won't 
have  the  Department  wives  assist  at  all." 

"  Good  business,"  said  Mrs.  Reynolds  approvingly. 
"  Since  I'm  included,  you  won't  make  any  mistake  to  drop 
the  rest.  Look  at  Sister  Davidson,  there  in  the  librarj' ! 
She  must  have  borrowed  that  hat  from  Noah's  wife.  If 
you  had  her  on  view,  people  would  think  you  were  hold- 
ing a  bazaar  for  the  Old  Ladies'  Home." 

"  So  they  would !  "  agreed  Cicely.  "  No,  I'll  ask  Mrs. 
Milton  for  the  tea,  and  Mrs.  Gregory  for  the  chocolate, 
and  Mrs.  Evans  for  the  coffee,  and  Mrs.  Sheridan  —  yes, 
I  must  have  Mrs.  Sheridan,  she  has  such  adorable  clothes ; 
—  I'll  have  champagne  frappe  for  her  to  serve." 

"  Now  you're  getting  into  your  pace !  "  observed  Mrs. 
Reynolds,  beginning  to  twinkle  with  amusement.  "  Can't 
you  think  of  something  else?  " 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     163 

"  I  might  have  a  little  orchestra/'  said  Cicely  medita- 
tively. 

"  So  you  might !  "  approved  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "  These 
Hungarian  triplets  are  playing  like  a  dream;  and  they're 
thin, —  they'd  just  fit  into  the  cubby-hole  under  your 
stairs.  Why  don't  you  get  them?  " 

"  I  will,  right  away,"  said  Cicely  promptly.  "  And 
—  let  me  see  —  I  might  get  a  gown." 

"  I'm  sure  you  need  one !  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds  satiri- 
cally. 

"  I  do,  frightfully,"  agreed  Cicely.  "  I  haven't  had  a 
stitch  for  weeks  and  weeks." 

"  Come  with  me  to  Beatrice,  then,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Reynolds,  "  and  get  a  regular  sizzler." 

"  All  right,"  said  Cicely.  "  I'll  go  with  you  to-mor- 
row; and  I'll  telegraph  for  the  other  things  on  the  way 
home  to-day.  What  a  help  you  are,  Risky,  in  making 
plans !  " 

"  Oh,  the  pleasure  is  mine !  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  with 
her  mocking  smile.  "  I  like  to  water  a  fruitful  sprout 
like  you." 

§ 

"  Well,  the  die  is  cast,  Roger !  "  remarked  Cicely  at 
dinner.  "  I've  made  all  the  preliminary  arrangements. 
Be  sure  not  to  have  any  engagement  for  January  twenty- 
ninth." 

"You  want  the  men,  do  you?"  asked  Roger,  trying 
not  to  look  depressed. 

"  Oh,  yes!  "  said  Cicely;  and  suddenly  the  memory  of 
her  first  intention,  eclipsed  by  the  later  glittering  details, 


164    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

came  back  to  her  uncomfortably.  "  I  want  the  men  espe- 
cially," she  said.  "  I'm  going  to  ask  all  your  colleagues." 

"Did  you  —  did  you  see  Mrs.  Davidson?"  asked 
Roger,  with  constraint.  He  hated  to  reopen  the  subject, 
but  a  vague  misgiving  urged  him  to  it. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Cicely ;  and  hurried  on  nervously, 
"  and  I  saw  Mrs.  Elton,  and  the  Bennetts,  and  the  Kings- 
leys,  and  simply  everybody.  The  President  was  there, 
giving  me  his  hand  to  kiss.  Mrs.  Kaltenborn  was  eating 
herself  purple  in  the  face." 

"  Cicely,"  said  Roger,  "  did  you  ask  Mrs.  Davidson  ?  " 

"  Did  I  ask  her  what?  "  returned  Cicely  flippantly. 
"  If  she  was  well,  or  if  she  wanted  the  vote?  " 

Roger  rose  from  his  unfinished  dinner,  and  stood  look- 
ing down  at  her.  His  face  was  stern.  "  I'm  not  going  to 
urge  you  to  tell  me,  Cicely,"  he  said  slowly,  "  because, — 
as  things  are, —  I  don't  dare  to  risk  the  wrong  answer.  I 
only  remind  you  of  what  I've  said,  and  tell  you  that  if 
you  can't  see  your  way  to  granting  me  this,  I  shall  never 
ask  you  anything  again.  I'm  going  over  to  the  labora- 
tory now  to  coach  some  fellows.  When  I  come  back  I 
hope  we  shall  be  able  to  talk  about  this  thing." 

Cicely  sat  on  the  edge  of  her  chair,  thinking  rapidly. 
Her  whole  being  resented  coercion,  especially  on  the 
subject  of  Mrs.  Davidson;  but  she  knew  as  well  as  Roger 
the  critical  nature  of  the  situation,  and  dared  not  re- 
fuse. Leaving  her  dinner  to  grow  cold  in  company  with 
his,  she  rose  and  went  to  the  telephone. 

"  Mrs.  Davidson?  "  she  said,  when  that  lady  had  an- 
swered her  call.  "  This  is  Cicely  Ford.  I'm  afraid 
I've  interrupted  your  dinner." 


"  I  can  eat  dinner  every  day,  and  I  don't  often  have 
a  chance  to  chat  with  you,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson's  pleas- 
ant voice;  however  trying  Cicely  might  be,  her  gener- 
osity and  her  affection  for  Roger  kept  her  patient.  "  I 
haven't  seen  you  for  weeks,  until  this  afternoon, — 
and  then  I  only  had  a  comet-glimpse  as  you  flashed 
by." 

"I  had  to  hurry;  and  we've  been  extremely  busy 
lately,"  said  Cicely  in  a  cool  voice.  "  Mrs.  Davidson, 
we're  having  a  reception  on  the  twenty-ninth,  and  I  want 
to  ask  you  to  receive  with  me." 

"  You're  having  a  reception !  "  repeated  Mrs.  David- 
son. "Why,  what  ambitious  young  hosts  you  are!  Is 
it  to  be  a  large  one?  " 

"  Very  large !  "  said  Cicely  emphatically.  "  Every- 
body in  the  whole  place !  " 

"  My  dear !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Davidson.  "  Isn't  that 
a  trifle  —  rash?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Cicely  coldly.  "  It's  all  settled. 
Will  you  receive?  " 

There  was  a  perceptible  pause;  then  Mrs.  Davidson 
said  slowly,  "  Are  you  quite  sure  you  want  me?  " 

"I'm  asking  you!"  said  Cicely. 

"I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson,  "but  —  I  can't  help 
realising  that  you  had  an  opportunity  to  ask  me  face 
to  face  this  afternoon,  and  didn't  care  to.  I'd  rather 
not  do  it,  Mrs.  Ford,  unless  I  feel  that  you  really  wish 
it." 

"  I  don't  know  what  more  I  can  say,"  said  Cicely 
stubbornly.  "  I've  asked  you,  and  I  ask  you  again. 
Will  you?" 


166    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  No,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson  quietly,  "  I  think 
I  won't." 

Cicely  was  dismayed.  Roger's  face  came  before  her 
with  its  look  of  uncompromising  sternness,  and  she  pre- 
visioned  the  consequences  of  such  news  as  this. 

"  Oh,  please,  Mrs.  Davidson !  "  she  cried  in  a  panic. 
"  Roger  wants  it  so  much !  Please !  " 

"  Oh, —  Roger  wants  it !  "  said  Mrs.  Davidson,  with 
an  odd  inflection. 

"  Very,  very  much !  "  urged  Cicely  artlessly.  "  Please 
do  it!" 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson,  "  I'll  do  it  —  for 
Roger." 

"  Oh,  thank  you !  "  cried  Cicely  in  a  burst  of  relief. 
"  It's  very  good  of  you !  Shall  I  — "  but  the  other 
receiver  had  snapped  into  its  hook,  and  she  spoke  into 
vacancy. 

"  Well ! "  she  exclaimed,  sitting  back  in  her  chair, 
"  that's  cool !  She  might  be  royalty."  The  panic  and 
the  relief  both  died  in  her,  and  anger  took  their  place. 
"  This  is  what  comes  of  letting  Roger  dictate  to  me !  " 
she  told  herself.  "  I  ruin  my  party,  and  get  snubbed 
for  my  pains.  A  pretty  state  of  things !  Am  I  to  be  a 
slave,  knocked  about  by  everybody,  simply  because  I'm 
married  ?  Is  that  his  idea  ?  " 

So  Roger,  returning  an  hour  later,  got  no  look  or 
word  of  greeting  from  the  very  erect  Cicely  who  sat 
making  lists  at  her  desk.  He  stood  behind  her  for  a 
moment,  watching  her  longingly. 

"  Well,  Cicely,"  he  ventured,  in  a  tone  that  he  strove 
to  make  nonchalant,  "is  everything  settled?" 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     167 

"  Yes/'  said  Cicely. 

"  Good !  "  exclaimed  Roger,  with  a  long  breath  of  re- 
lief. "Shall  we  talk  it  over,  then?" 

"  No/'  said  Cicely. 

Roger  stood  irresolute.  His  heart  and  his  arms  cried 
out  for  her;  the  sight  of  the  soft  hair,  fair  at  its  roots 
like  a  baby's,  waving  upwards  from  her  slim  white  neck, 
brought  a  sob  into  his  throat.  But  he  did  not  dare  go 
nearer.  With  a  great  sigh,  he  turned  silently  away. 

§ 

The  day  of  the  reception  came  in  sleet  and  snow, 
and  changed  to  drizzle  and  chilly  thaw  in  time  for  the 
festivity.  Cicely  stood  by  the  window  and  stared  out 
into  the  dreary  street.  The  pavement  was  a  mass  of 
slush,  and  the  few  pedestrians  splashed  forlornly,  cower- 
ing within  their  turned-up  collars  under  the  icy  rain. 
The  florists'  men  were  departing,  their  wagon  littered 
with  empty  boxes  and  broken  bits  of  green;  they  were 
drenched  and  chilled,  and  their  profanity  mingled  dis- 
cordantly with  the  shrill  scolding  of  Hitty  as  she  wiped 
up  their  muddy  tracks.  Inside  the  house,  the  haughty 
caterers  were  grumbling  at  the  inadequacy  of  the  space 
and  equipment,  the  long-haired,  unsavoury  Hungarians 
were  quarrelling  loudly,  and  the  imported  cloak-room 
maids  giggled  scornfully  with  the  waiters. 

"  Oh,  what  a  diabolical  business !  "  thought  Cicely. 
"  It's  like  all  my  life  since  I  came  into  this  house, — • 
everything  going  wrong,  everybody  disappointing  me. — 
What  a  horrible  world  this  is !  " 

Very  soon  the  two  assistant  hostesses  arrived, —  Mrs. 


168     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Reynolds  lazily,  maliciously  charming  in  pale  yellow  em- 
broidered Oriental-wise  with  green  and  gold,  Mrs.  David- 
son calm  and  self-unconscious  in  a  plain  black  gown 
that  showed  several  seasons'  wear.  They  had  come  in 
the  same  carriage  (owing  to  the  highly  practical  policy 
of  the  Cheltenham  livery  company,  which  made  it  a 
rule  to  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone  whenever  possible), 
and  Cicely  thought  she  detected  signs  already  of  the 
inevitable  clash  between  them.  She  spurred  herself  into 
animation,  and  went  forward  to  greet  them  with  as  much 
cordiality  as  she  could  assume. 

"  You  valiant  creatures !  "  she  said.  "  I'm  your  debtor 
for  life.  You  both  deserve  the  Legion  of  Honour  for  this." 

"  I  should  say  we  did ! "  scolded  Mrs.  Reynolds. 
"  Who  ever  heard  of  having  such  a  day  for  a  reception  ? 
It  might  do  for  mermaids, —  mermaids  and  Polar  bears, 
—  but  for  Christians  it's  simply  an  outrage !  " 

"  But  after  all,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson, —  who  had  evi- 
dently come  armoured  in  a  firm  resolve  to  be  tactful 
and  long-suffering  and  make  the  best  of  things, — "  it 
might  be  worse.  There  are  so  many  annoying  things 
that  might  have  happened  through  some  one's  negligence; 
but  nobody  is  to  blame  for  the  weather." 

"  Oh,  I  know ;  God  makes  it,"  said  Mrs.  Reynolds, 
with  a  grimace  at  Cicely.  "  Cissy,  how  heavenly  your 
gown  is!  Beatrice  has  outdone  herself.  If  only 
weather-makers  were  as  reliable  as  dress-makers  — 
Never  mind,  Mrs.  Davidson,  I'm  not  going  to  say  any- 
thing! I'm  only  remarking  that  Beatrice  is  a  pippin." 

Mrs.  Davidson's  figure  had  stiffened  so  ominously 
that  Cicely  hastened  into  the  breach.  "  Well,  I  hope 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     169 

somebody  will  come !  "  said  she.  "  This  house  is  so  full 
of  food  that  it  may  explode  any  minute,  unless  a  few 
vigorous  appetites  happen  along." 

"  Mrs.  Kaltenborn  will  help  you  out,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Reynolds,  "  and  so  will  Mr.  Sure-Cure-for-Frog-in-the- 
Throat.  And  so  will  the  Human  Glassworks, —  is  she 
coming?  " 

"Mrs.  de  Mullen?"  said  Cicely.  "I  don't  know; 
I'm  rather  in  her  black  books." 

"  I  hope  she  shows  up,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Reynolds. 
"  She's  luscious  when  she's  in  a  bad  temper.  We'll  bait 
her,  Cissy.  You  be  the  picador,  and  I'll  be  the  torea- 
dor." 

Mrs.  Davidson  looked  very  disapproving.  "  You 
mustn't  forget,"  she  said,  "  that  Mrs.  de  Mullen  has 
feelings  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us.  She  may  not  have 
had  many  advantages,  but  she  is  full  of  kindness  if  one 
approaches  her  in  the  right  way." 

"  Oh,  I've  no  doubt  she  has  nice  hair  and  is  good  to 
her  mother,"  said  Mrs.  Reynolds  flippantly.  "  Cissy, 
what  did  hubby  say  to  the  Hungarians?  Did  he  gnash 
his  teeth?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  answered  Cicely,  a  little  disconcerted,  "  he 
didn't  say  anything.  It's  time  for  them  to  start;  I 
must  tell  them." 

"  What,  have  you  an  orchestra? "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Davidson,  in  a  tone  which  said  plainer  than  words, 
"Roger  certainly  has  self-command!" 

Cicely  was  nettled.  "  We  have  the  customary  appur- 
tenances of  civilisation !  "  she  said,  and  added  to  her- 
self as  she  walked  away,  "  That  woman  will  be  the 


170    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

death  of  me!  I  shall  throw  something  at  her  before 
I'm  through." 

When  she  returned  from  interviewing  the  musicians, 
Roger  had  appeared,  and  was  greeting  her  coadjutors. 
He  had  just  begun  to  realise  the  magnificence  of  the 
preparations,  and  looked  harassed  and  grave.  Cicely 
could  see  the  two  women  studying  his  face,  one  with 
anxious  sympathy,  the  other  with  amusement.  Her  dis- 
satisfaction received  a  new  fillip.  What  right  had  Roger 
to  look  so  solemn,  and  make  her  dismal  reception  a  shade 
more  forlorn?  \Vhat  right  had  Mrs.  Davidson  to  yearn 
over  him  as  if  she  possessed  him?  As  for  Mrs.  Rey- 
nolds, Cicely  was  always  ill  at  ease  and  fearful  when 
her  husband  and  her  cherished  friend  were  together. 
She  made  haste  to  rejoin  the  group  and  break  off  the 
conversation. 

"  Roger,  excuse  me,  but  the  telephone  is  ringing,"  she 
said.  "Will  you  go,  please? —  I'm  sorry  to  interrupt, 
Mrs.  Davidson,  but  I  can't  go  myself;  people  may  come 
at  any  minute." 

"  It's  very  early,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson,  rather  coldly. 

"  Oh,  the  kind  of  people  who  come  on  a  day  like  this 
are  always  the  early  birds !  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  rally- 
ing promptly  to  her  friend's  support.  "  They  come  for 
the  worms.  Nobody 'd  come  for  anything  else  in  such 
weather.  I  predict  there  won't  be  a  soul  here  to-day  but 
the  hungry  freaks,  Cissy, —  and,  of  course,  your  beaux ; 
earthquakes  wouldn't  keep  them  away." 

Mrs.  Davidson  looked  disapproving  again,  and,  per- 
ceiving it,  Mrs.  Reynolds  chattered  on  with  gusto. 

"  You  know  Cissy  has  every  bachelor  in  this  place 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE    171 

soldered  to  her  apronstrings !  "  she  said.  "  That  nice 
little  Andrews  in  the  classical  department  is  simply  off 
his  head  about  her.  So  is  Beau  Brummel  Beecher.  And 
poor  Mr.  Philosophy-and-Ethics  Lyman, —  she's  taken 
away  all  his  philosophy,  and  all  his  ethics  too." 

"  Oh,  Risky,  what  nonsense  you  talk !  "  said  Cicely, 
laughing.  "  They  only  like  me  to  tell  their  love  affairs 
to." 

"  Rubbish !  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "  You  know  as 
well  as  I  do  that  you're  a  natural-born  heart-breaker. 
I  wish  I  had  your  knack." 

At  this  Mrs.  Davidson's  disapproval  boiled  up  so 
vigorously  that  an  explosion  seemed  imminent;  but  while 
Cicely  was  nervously  hunting  for  means  to  avert  it, 
and  Mrs.  Reynolds  was  awaiting  it  with  amused  inter- 
est, Roger  came  back  from  the  telephone  with  news. 

"  It  was  Mrs.  Gregory,"  he  announced.  "  She  says 
it's  such  a  disagreeable  day  she  thinks  she  won't  venture 
out,  and  asks  you  to  excuse  her." 

Mrs.  Reynolds  smiled  maliciously.  "  What  did  I  tell 
you?"  she  said.  "There's  one  lily-of-the-field  gone. 
You  mark  me,  Cissy,  nobody '11  be  here  to-day  but  the 
sad  ones.  I  wouldn't  have  come  myself  for  anybody 
but  you." 

Cicely  bit  her  lip  in  vexation.  "  How  could  she  ?  " 
she  exclaimed.  "  She  promised  me  faithfully, —  and 
with  all  those  automobiles,  too!  But  I'll  just  move  Mrs. 
Sheridan  to  the  chocolate,  and  have  a  waiter  serve  the 
frappe.  Mrs.  Milton  will  like  that  better,  anyway; 
she  and  Mrs.  Sheridan  are  great  friends.  Here  she 
comes  now." 


172     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  That's  the  idea !  "  approved  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "  Show 
them  they  can't  cripple  you;  I'll  back  you  to  do  it. — 
I  like  to  see  a  really  good  sport,  don't  you?  "  she  added 
to  Mrs.  Davidson. 

But  in  a  moment,  when  Cicely  returned  with  a  clouded 
brow  from  welcoming  Mrs.  Milton,  and  admitted  that 
that  lady  had  come  charged  with  Mrs.  Sheridan's  re- 
grets, Mrs.  Reynolds  burst  into  gleeful  laughter. 

"They're  like  autumn  leaves,  Cissy!"  she  jeered. 
"  They're  falling  fast.  What  shall  you  do  now  —  put 
another  waiter  behind  the  chocolate?  Be  sure  to  get 
one  that  matches  it,  so  Mrs.  Drummond  will  have  a 
pleasant  picture  to  face." 

"  It's  too  vexatious !  "  said  Cicely,  indignantly.  "  I 
only  asked  four;  I  never  thought  of  anybody's  treating 
me  like  this.  Well,  there's  only  one  thing  to  do, —  I 
shall  have  to  ask  you  to  take  the  chocolate,  Mrs.  David- 
son, please." 

"  I  think  Mrs.  Reynolds  had  better,"  interposed 
Roger  quickly,  with  true  masculine  tact. 

"Why  do  you?"  inquired  Mrs.  Reynolds,  smiling 
mockingly. 

"  Because  —  because  —  you  know  the  dining-room  so 
well,"  blundered  Roger.  "  You  can  find  your  way 
around." 

"  Oh,  thank  you !  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "  You  flatter 
me." 

"  Mrs.  Davidson  has  normal  intelligence,  too !  "  said 
Cicely,  with  a  little  irritated  laugh.  "  If  you'll  come  this 
way,  please,  Mrs.  Davidson — " 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     173 

"  I  want  Mrs.  Davidson  to  help  you  receive  your 
guests,"  said  Roger  resolutely. 

"  I  really  think,  Roger,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson  rather 
nervously,  "  that  I'd  better  go." 

"  Please  do  not,"  said  Roger.  His  chin  was  set,  and 
he  looked  stubbornly  determined. 

"  Roger,  let  her,  if  she  wishes  to !  "  exclaimed  Cicely 
in  uncontrollable  exasperation. 

"  Oh,  don't  come  to  blows !  "  drawled  Mrs.  Reynolds. 
"I'm  going  —  going  —  gone."  She  looked  back  over 
her  green-and-golden  shoulder  with  an  impish  gleam. 
"  Let  the  soul-feast  go  on  just  as  if  I  were  present!" 
she  added. 

Cicely  gave  a  short,  hard  laugh.  Roger,  triumphant, 
but  a  good  deal  embarrassed,  shuffled  uncomfortably  for 
a  moment,  and  then  moved  away.  Nobody  spoke. 
Cicely,  glancing  at  Mrs.  Davidson,  saw  her  gathering 
those  forces  of  patience  and  forgiveness  in  which  she  had 
come  arrayed,  and  was  stirred  to  new  anger:  "  If  she 
makes  herself  look  one  single  bit  more  saintly,"  she 
thought  savagely,  "  I  shall  swear !  " 

Into  this  strained  moment  entered,  as  if  shot  out  of  a 
providential  cannon,  the  ever-prompt  Mrs.  Simms,  with 
her  husband  trailing  behind  her.  In  deference  to  the 
weather  the  lady  wore  a  short-skirted  tweed  costume,  a 
little  round  hat,  and  stout  boots;  but  her  lord  had  hon- 
oured the  occasion  by  a  long  frock  coat  that  enveloped 
him  from  the  collar  to  the  calves,  out  of  which  his  mild 
face  and  timid  little  nose  rose  modestly;  and,  as  usual, 
Mrs.  Simms  so  dominated  her  accessories  that  it  took  a 


174     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

penetrating  eye  to  observe  her  toilette  at  all,  while  her 
husband  straggled  across  the  room  in  the  guise  of  a  large 
coat  with  a  very  small  man  tucked  into  it  by  an  after- 
thought. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Ford!  How  do  you  do,  Mrs. 
Davidson !  "  said  Mrs.  Simms  briskly.  "  The  weather 
is  unfavourable,  but  I  resolved  not  to  let  it  make  any 
difference  in  my  plans.  As  I  said  to  my  husband,  a  duty 
is  a  duty,  especially  on  a  rainy  day.  Amos !  Oh,  there 
you  are.  Come  here." 

"  I'm  very  glad  to  see  you,  Mrs.  Simms !  "  said  Cicely, 
with  an  unwonted  degree  of  sincerity.  "  You  are  cer- 
tainly a  public  benefactor.  And  you,  Mr.  Simms, —  how 
good  of  you  to  come !  " 

Dr.  Simms  smiled  with  mild  complaisance.  "  Well, 
Mrs.  Simms  was  anxious  to  have  me,"  he  explained  in- 
genuously, "  and  of  course  her  will  is  my  law." 

"  I'm  sure  of  that,"  said  Cicely,  her  mischievous  in- 
stincts reviving.  "  And  you're  a  man  who  has  great 
respect  for  the  law,  aren't  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  hope  I  am  no  loose  misdemeanant,"  returned 
Dr.  Simms,  swelling  with  conscious  virtue  under  her 
deferential  gaze.  "  My  worst  foe,  I  trust,  could  not 
point  to  any  felonious  actions  in  my  past." 

"  How  grateful  you  must  be  to  Mrs.  Simms,"  sug- 
gested Cicely,  "  for  shielding  you  from  temptation,  and 
keeping  your  life  pure  and  beautiful!  There's  nothing 
like  a  good  prop,  is  there  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  indeed,"  agreed  Dr.  Simms  politely. 
"  Your  husband,  my  esteemed  colleague,  must  also  ap- 
preciate your  aid  and  support." 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     175 

"  Ah,  as  to  support,"  said  Cicely,  "  I  fear  I  don't  sup- 
port him  in  the  style  to  which  he's  accustomed.  I'm  not 
at  all  like  your  supreme,  all-subduing  wife." 

"  On  the  contrary,  Mrs.  Ford,"  exclaimed  the  learned 
man  with  conviction  (for  Cicely's  charms  always  had  a 
powerfully  stimulating  effect  on  him),  "  I  should 
say  you  were,  if  not  her  prototype,  at  least  her  facsim- 
ile!" 

Mrs.  Simms,  scenting  gallantry  in  the  air,  turned 
sharply  around.  "  Amos !  "  she  said.  "  Why  don't  you 
speak  to  Mrs.  Davidson?  I'm  surprised  at  you!" 

"  My  dear,"  said  Dr.  Simms  with  unexpected  spirit, 
"  all  in  good  time.  I  am  having  a  delightful  conversation 
with  Mrs.  Ford." 

"  That's  no  reason,"  returned  Mrs.  Simms,  in  a  reso- 
nant undertone,  "  why  you  should  ignore  or  neglect  your 
other  social  duties.  Speak  to  Mrs.  Davidson." 

Her  manner  admitted  of  no  appeal,  and  the  well- 
trained  Amos  reluctantly  left  his  hostess'  side.  Mrs. 
Simms  took  his  place.  Her  jaw  had  already  begun  to 
acquire  the  look  of  iron  rigour  which  intercourse  with 
Cicely  was  apt  to  give  it. 

"  Mr.  Simms,"  she  remarked  severely,  "  is  naturally 
social  and  conversational,  and,  like  most  of  his  sex,  he 
has  no  sense  of  fitness.  I  was  obliged  to  hurry  him." 

"  Greatly  to  my  loss,"  said  Cicely.  "  I  find  him  such 
a  cavalier !  " 

Mrs.  Simms'  lips  tightened.  "  He  mustn't  dawdle," 
she  said.  "  He's  very  much  inclined  to  waste  his  time." 

"  I'm  sure  he  wastes  very  little  time  with  you!  "  said 
Cicely  sweetly. 


176    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"H'm!"  returned  Mrs.  Simnr  ,  with  a  boring  glance 
of  her  sharp  eyes. 

"  I  mean,"  explained  Cicely.  "  that  you  don't  allow 
the  time  spent  with  you  to  be  wasted.  You  keep  im- 
proving him  every  minute." 

"  I  have  his  interests  at  heart,  certainly,"  said  Mrs. 
Simms,  "  if  that's  what  you  mean." 

"  At  heart  and  in  hand,"  said  Cicely  admiringly. 
"  And  himself  in  hand  too.  How  do  you  make  him  so 
—  plastic?  I  wish  I  had  a  husband  like  that!" 

"  I  expect,"  said  Mrs.  Simms  somewhat  grimly,  "  you'll 
have  to  manage  with  the  husband  you  have.  Amos !  " 

"  To  make  married  life  one  grand  sweet  song,"  mused 
Cicely,  "  I  suppose  it  is  better  for  one  to  sing  a  good 
deal  louder  than  the  other." 

"  I  am  sure,"  exclaimed  the  gallant  Dr.  Simms,  catch- 
ing this  remark,  "  that  any  man  would  be  delighted  to 
sing  second  to  Mrs.  Ford !  " 

"  Amos,  what  nonsense  you  talk !  "  said  Mrs.  Simms 
severely.  "  If  Mrs.  Ford's  husband  has  any  sense,  he'll 
sing  as  loud  as  he  can.  Come !  "  With  a  brief  bow  to 
the  hostesses,  she  led  him  sternly  away. 

"  Aren't  they  a  lark !  "  said  Cicely,  her  spirits  some- 
what restored  by  the  encounter.  "  I  nearly  had  her  stab- 
bing me,  and  Amy  rushing  to  my  defence.  I  wish 
Clarissa  had  been  here." 

Mrs.  Davidson,  however,  was  by  no  means  so  easily 
cheered.  She  disapproved  of  all  the  atmosphere  of  this 
festivity,  she  disapproved  of  Cicely's  method  of  enter- 
taining her  guests,  and  she  disapproved  on  principle  of 
Mrs.  Reynolds:  moreover,  though  magnanimous,  she  was 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     177 

human,  and  had  not  enjoyed  her  forced  retention  in  her 
position  as  hostess,  nor  Dr.  Simms'  forced  attentions  to 
her.  She  had  always  a  good  deal  of  advice  that  longed 
to  expend  itself  on  Cicely,  and  this  time  it  could  not  all 
be  restrained. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  just  as  well  that  Mrs.  Reynolds  is  not 
here,"  she  said.  "  I  must  say  frankly  that  I  don't  admire 
her;  and  I'm  afraid,  my  dear,  she  doesn't  always  have 
the  best  effect  on  you." 

"  Oh,  mon  dieu !  "  remarked  Cicely  to  herself,  "  here  it 
comes !  "  Her  mouth  set  mutinously.  "  You're  quite 
mistaken,"  she  said  aloud.  "  Risky  has  an  excellent 
effect  on  me.  She  brightens  me  up." 

"  Do  you  think,"  returned  Mrs.  Davidson,  "  that  it's 
a  desirable  brightening,  when  it  leads  you  to  ridicule  well- 
meaning  people,  and  be  untrue  to  your  best  self?  Mrs. 
Reynolds  may  be  very  clever,  but  —  forgive  me  —  she  is 
not  womanly  or  kind." 

"  She's  my  best  friend,"  said  Cicely,  lifting  her  chin 
sharply. 

"  Then,  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson,  "  you  should 
choose  a  different  best  friend.  You  know  that  every  one 
who  touches  our  lives  closely  influences  us,  for  good  or 
bad ;  if  the  influence  — " 

"  Oh,  help  me,"  besought  Cicely  of  her  inmost  self, 
"  not  to  make  a  face  at  her,  and  not  to  swear !  " 

"  If  the  influence  is  bad,  it  ought  to  be  removed  from 
our  lives  before  it  takes  root.  Roger,  I  know,  would 
agree  with  me.  If  some  one  gains  an  ascendency 
over  us  to  our  hurt,  we  should  sever  the  bond  at  any 
cost." 


178    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"Sacre!"  ejaculated  Cicely  vehemently;  and  then 
looked  aghast  at  her  own  depravity. 

"  I  didn't  catch  what  you  said,  my  dear/'  said  Mrs. 
Davidson,  with  mild  reproach. 

"It's  just  as  well,"  murmured  Cicely;  and  to  herself 
she  added,  "  I  must  shut  her  off,  quick,  before  I  get 
driven  to  do  it  in  English !  " 

Fortunately,  at  this  juncture  a  little  group  of  people 
appeared  at  the  door, —  science-department  people,  who 
lived  in  the  same  neighbourhood,  and,  venturing  forth  out 
of  clan-loyalty,  had  drifted  into  a  coalition  on  the  way. 
They  were  the  shy  young  Hoods,  the  profoundly  scien- 
tific Dr.  Sherman  and  his  no  less  scientific  wife,  the 
serene  and  well-dressed  Welshes,  and  comfortable  Mrs. 
Kaltenborn.  In  that  empty  little  drawing-room  they 
appeared  quite  a  throng;  Cicely  greeted  them  with  en- 
thusiasm, and  Mrs.  Davidson  with  some  relief.  The 
scene  attained  a  specious  aspect  of  festivity,  due  to  the 
frequent  repetition  of  the  phrase,  "  So  glad  to  see  you !  " 
and  to  the  fact  that  several  people  were  speaking  at  once. 

"  Veil,  it's  rainy  vedder ! "  said  Mrs.  Kaltenborn 
cheerfully. 

"  So  it  is,"  agreed  Cicely.  "  I  hope  you  didn't  get 
wet." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Mrs.  Kaltenborn.  "  I  lift  up  my  skirt 
high, —  ferry  high.  I  got  a  goot  flannel  petticoat ;  it 
don't  shpot." 

"  You're  fortunate,"  said  Cicely.  "  Was  it  part  of 
your  trousseau?  " 

"  No,  dat  von  vore  out  alretty,"  said  Mrs.  Kaltenborn 
thoughtfully.  "  Dis  von  I  got  ten  years  ago  in  New 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     179 

York,  or  it's  maybe  elefen.  Are  you  getting  goot  flannel 
in  Paris  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know;  I  never  got  any  there,"  said  Cicely. 

"  Xeffer  got  any !  "  repeated  Mrs.  Kaltenborn,  with 
an  amazed  look.  "  Of  vat  are  you  making  your  petti- 
coats, den?  " 

"  I  never  made  any,"  admitted  Cicely.  "  I  don't  know 
how." 

"  My,  my !  "  said  Mrs.  Kaltenborn,  raising  her  hands. 
"  Veil,  I'll  teach  you.  I  got  a  goot  pattern.  It  vould 
keep  you  fine  and  varm;  I  t'ink  it  go  arount  you  twice 
alretty.  I'll  gif  it  to  you." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Kaltenborn !  "  exclaimed  Cicely,  realising 
the  magnitude  of  the  favour,  "  this  is  too  much !  " 

"  Oh,  not  ven  you  get  used  to  it,"  replied  that  literal 
lady.  "  It  makes  you  valk  a  liddle  slow,  dat's  all.  Veil, 
I  tink  I  go  get  someting  to  eat."  She  nodded  amiably, 
and  ambled  at  a  slightly  accelerated  pace  towards  the 
dining-room. 

"Mrs.  Kaltenborn  is  more  fun  than  a  picnic!"  said 
Cicely,  turning  back  to  Mrs.  Davidson  with  dancing  eyes, 
as  the  others  strayed  away.  "  If  her  husband  is  as  funny 
as  she  is,  they  ought  to  go  on  the  vaudeville  stage.  '  The 
Kute  Kaltenborns,  in  their  Refined  Domestic  Skit, 
"  Hearts  Enchained  by  Wienerwurst  Links,"  ' —  wouldn't 
they  make  a  success  ?  " 

Mrs.  Davidson  tried  to  smile  politely,  but  only  suc- 
ceeded in  looking  pained.  She  clearly  wanted  to  ex- 
plain that  Dr.  Kaltenborn  was  a  very  eminent  scientist, 
and  Mrs.  Kaltenborn  an  excellent  housekeeper  and  wife; 
and  Cicely,  seeing  the  remark  on  its  way,  hastened  to 


180     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

forestall   it,   for   fear   it   would   tempt  her   beyond   her 
strength. 

"  Mrs.  Welsh  had  a  very  pretty  gown  on,"  she  ob- 
served. "  What  a  nice  combination,  that  garnet  and  rose- 
colour!  She  dresses  charmingly." 

"  Her  husband  has  independent  means,"  said  Mrs. 
Davidson  significantly. 

"  All  husbands  should  have,"  remarked  Cicely.  "  It's 
an  accomplishment  that  graces  any  man." 

Mrs.  Davidson  shook  her  head.  "  Oh,  it  matters  so 
little !  "  she  said.  "  Haven't  you  ever  noticed  how  few 
of  the  great  men  of  the  world  have  had  wealth  ?  Martin 
Luther  —  Columbus  —  Napoleon  —  Abraham  Lincoln  — 
those,  and  countless  other  glorious  names,  belonged  to 
men  with  no  other  fortune." 

"  Well,  a  name,  even  a  pretty  one,  isn't  of  much  use 
with  nothing  behind  it,"  returned  Cicely.  "  A  name  like 
Rothschild  looks  a  lot  more  appealing  on  a  cheque  than 
a  name  like  Saint  Francis." 

Mrs.  Davidson  looked  shocked.  "  I'm  afraid  you 
haven't  escaped  the  modern  taint  of  commercialism,"  she 
said.  "  Try  to  do  it,  my  dear.  That's  one  of  the  first 
things  we  learn  from  our  lovely  life  in  Cheltenham; 
here,  if  anywhere,  money  is  worthless." 

"  Yes,  so  I've  noticed,"  remarked  Cicely.  "  It's  like 
heaven  in  that, —  there  isn't  any.  Oh,  here  comes  an- 
other visitor ;  how  wonderful !  " 

There  was  a  bustle  in  the  hallway,  and,  regally  brush- 
ing aside  the  straggling  group  around  the  drawing-room 
door,  Mrs.  de  Mullen  sailed  in.  She  was  too  fashionable 
to  come  early,  but  not  fashionable  enough  to  stay  away; 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     181 

in  spite  of  her  distrust  of  Cicely,  an  invitation  to  the 
little  red  house  was  still  a  thing  to  be  considered.  She 
came  in  full  war-paint,  feathers  nodding,  chains  jingling, 
jewels  twinkling;  but  as  her  husband  could  not  be  viewed 
in  the  aspect  of  an  ornament,  and  as  there  would  be  no 
occasion  for  him  to  honour  drafts,  she  had  left  him  at 
home. 

"  Howdy-do,  Mrs.  Ford !  Howdy-do,  Mrs.  David- 
son !  "  she  said  graciously,  shaking  hands  with  her  plump 
elbow  raised  high,  in  a  manner  of  supreme  elegance. 
"  What  unpropitious  weather,  is  it  not?  Quite  preposter- 
ous !  " 

"  Fabulous !  "  returned  Cicely,  her  eyes  beginning  to 
dance  again. 

"  But  I  would  brave  more  elements  than  these,"  added 
Mrs.  de  Mullen  benignly,  "  to  encourage  Mrs.  Ford 
in  her  hospitality.  What  a  charming  function  you 
are  having,  Mrs.  Ford!  Very  chick,  as  the  French 
say." 

"  Oh,  I  must  call  Mrs.  Reynolds !  "  exclaimed  Cicely. 
"  She  wouldn't  miss  you  for  anything.  Excuse  me  a 
minute." 

"  Mrs.  Reynolds  will  see  Mrs.  de  Mullen  in  the  dining- 
room  !  "  interposed  Mrs.  Davidson  quickly. 

"  She  can't  wait  that  long,"  answered  Cicely,  flying 
away:  and  in  a  moment  she  was  flying  back  again  with 
her  chosen  mate.  "  She's  so  grateful  to  me  for  bringing 
her !  "  she  added  breathlessly.  "  She  says  she  would 
never  have  forgiven  me  if  I  hadn't." 

"  I  appreciate  your  conversation  so  keenly,  Mrs.  de 
Mullen,"  drawled  Mrs.  Reynolds,  "  that  I  forsook  the 


182     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

howling,  hungry  mob  at  the  peril  of  my  life,  to  enjoy  it." 

"  You  surprise  me,"  said  Mrs.  de  Mullen,  accepting 
the  tribute  with  an  affable  gesture.  "  I  did  not  sup- 
pose there  would  be  such  a  melee  of  people, —  the  weather 
being,  as  I  said  to  Mrs.  Ford,  so  unpropitious." 

"  Oh,  is  it?  "  asked  Mrs.  Reynolds,  wide-eyed. 

"  Yes,  it's  raining,"  said  Cicely  sweetly.  "  Several 
people  have  told  me  so.  You  ought  to  be  canonized,  Mrs. 
de  Mullen,  for  coming  out." 

"  Canonized !  "  repeated  Mrs.  de  Mullen,  stiffening. 
"  A  bombardment  would  be  a  strange  return,  Mrs.  Ford, 
for  a  Good  Samaritan  deed !  " 

"  Mrs.  Ford  means  a  salute  with  cannon,"  suggested 
Mrs.  Reynolds,  "  such  as  they  give  to  royalty.  A  salvo, 
you  know." 

"  Yes,  that's  it,"  said  Cicely.  "  What  the  French  call 
a  quid  pro  quo." 

"  Mrs.  de  Mullen,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Davidson,  in  a 
voice  trenchant  with  suppressed  indignation,  "  how  is 
your  house  getting  on  ?  " 

The  two  conspirators  exchanged  a  delighted  glance; 
the  topic  could  not  have  been  more  congenial. 

"  My  shottoe,  I  thank  you,  Mrs.  Davidson/'  said  Mrs. 
de  Mullen  majestically,  "  is  progressing  favourably." 

"  Have  you  got  the  architraves  in  yet?  "  inquired  Mrs. 
Reynolds. 

"I  —  ah  —  I  haven't  observed,"  returned  Mrs.  de 
Mullen  stiffly. 

"Or  the  spandrels?"  asked  Cicely,  with  earnest  in- 
terest. 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     183 

"  Perhaps  Mrs.  de  Mullen  isn't  going  to  keep  kennels, 
Cissy !  "  admonished  Mrs.  Reynolds. 

"  I  shall  have  whatever  is  on  reggle  in  the  best  shot- 
toes,  Mrs.  Reynolds !  "  said  Mrs.  de  Mullen  haughtily. 

"  Mrs.  de  Mullen,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Davidson  again, 
in  a  voice  eloquent  with  outraged  feeling,  "  I'm  sure  you 
would  like  some  sort  of  refreshment." 

"  I  thank  you,  Mrs.  Davidson,"  retorted  Mrs.  de  Mul- 
len severely,  aware  of  something  wrong  in  the  deference 
surrounding  her,  and  hastening  to  include  this  innocent 
lady  in  her  distrust,  "  I  am  not  such  a  gormet  as  you 
suppose!  I  frequently  go  hours  and  hours  without 
food." 

"  Then  you  certainly  must  have  something  to  eat 
now !  "  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  seizing  her  by  the  arm. 
"  Come  with  me,  and  I'll  fill  you  right  up  to  the  chin 
with  Cissy's  lovely  party  stuff.  It's  awfully  expensive; 
it'll  make  you  feel  at  home." 

"  Yes,  do !  "  exclaimed  Cicely,  seizing  the  other  arm. 
"  I'll  come  and  help  fill  you.  Forward,  march !  " 

"  Mrs.  Ford,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson  authoritatively, 
"  stay  here." 

"  Why?  "  demanded  Cicely,  like  a  naughty  child.  "  I 
want  to  give  Mrs.  de  Mullen  a  square  meal;  Risky  will 
starve  her." 

"I  will  not!"  said  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "I'll  feed  her 
better  than  you  would,  Cissy;  I  don't  have  to  pay  the 
bills." 

Mrs.  de  Mullen  indignantly  withdrew  both  her  sleeves 
from  their  grasp.  "  I  shall  not  invade  the  dining-room 


184     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

at  all,"  she  said  icily.  "  I  have  an  ample  supply  of  re- 
freshments at  my  own  residence."  She  rustled  furiously 
away,  without  a  backward  glance. 

"  Oh,  waffles  and  griddle-cakes,  wasn't  that  fun ! " 
cried  Mrs.  Reynolds,  convulsed.  "  There  goes  your  in- 
vitation to  the  shottoe,  Cissy,  on  the  tip  of  that  proudly 
elevated  nose." 

"  Repousse  —  as  the  French  say,"  laughed  Cicely. 
"Oh,  no,  you're  wrong,  Risky;  I  can  coax  her  round 
again." 

"  I  should  advise  you  to  leave  her  alone,"  said  Mrs. 
Davidson  indignantly.  "  And  you,  Mrs.  Reynolds, —  I 
think  you  had  better  go  back  to  your  post.  You  have 
been  away  from  it  long  enough." 

"  I'm  going;  don't  worry,"  said  Mrs.  Reynolds.  "  I 
couldn't  stay  long  in  this  rarefied  atmosphere.  But  that 
interview  was  worth  a  sacrifice  or  two.  Call  me  if 
there's  any  more  excitement,  Cissy." 

"  I  wonder  at  you,  Mrs.  Ford,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson 
severely,  as  Mrs.  Reynolds  trailed  away.  "  Roger  would 
not  approve  of  this,  I  can  assure  you." 

Cicely  knew  well  enough  that  she  had  behaved  abom- 
inably, but  Mrs.  Davidson's  righteous  superiority  only 
made  her  more  recalcitrant.  "  Roger  has  more  sense 
than  to  meddle  in  my  affairs !  "  she  retorted.  "  When 
Mrs.  de  Mullen  acquires  civilization  (if  she  ever  does), 
he  will  be  delighted  to  think  that  I  had  a  hand  in  it. 
Thank  goodness,  here  come  some  more  people, —  another 
addition  to  the  Noble  Army  of  Martyrs !  " 

Now  indeed  a  steady  small  trickle  of  visitors  began 
to  stray  in,  linger  damply  for  a  while,  and  stray  out 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE     185 

into  the  rain  again.  They  served  the  purpose  of  pre- 
serving the  illusion  that  this  was  a  reception,  and  of 
preventing  complete  disaster  in  the  receiving  party,  where 
Cicely's  recklessness  was  mounting  beyond  bounds,  and 
Mrs.  Davidson's  self-control  was  wearing  thin.  But 
they  added  little  to  the  gaiety  of  the  occasion;  they 
were  nearly  all  the  "  sad  ones "  whose  coming  Mrs. 
Reynolds  had  foretold,  and  though  now  and  then  a  motor- 
car dropped  a  pretty  gown  or  a  smart  silk  hat  at  the  door, 
these  were  few  and  far  between,  and,  having  come  simply 
because  they  were  too  bored  to  stay  at  home,  contributed 
small  glitter.  Cards  arrived  in  quantities,  by  post  or  by 
messenger;  the  telephone  kept  ringing  with  profuse  re- 
grets from  special  friends  who  had  promised  to  be  on 
hand ;  the  flowers  and  Hungarians  and  hostesses  struggled 
more  and  more  vainly  with  their  dismal  surroundings ; 
and  at  the  end  of  an  hour  the  occasion  stood  baldly 
forth,  a  self-confessed  failure. 

"  Oh,  what's  the  use !  "  cried  Cicely  to  Mrs.  David- 
son, with  suddenly  acute  impatience.  "  Why  do  we  pre- 
tend this  is  a  party?  Why  do  we  keep  up  this  grisly 
mockery  of  '  receiving  '  the  empty  air  ?  We  look  like 
a  pair  of  stuffed  alligators.  Let's  stop." 

Mrs.  Davidson,  not  unnaturally,  failed  to  greet  this 
tribute  with  enthusiasm.  "  I  don't  agree  with  you,"  she 
said  stiffly.  "  Why  shouldn't  we  receive,  if  that  is  what 
we  are  here  for  ?  WThat  else  should  we  do  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  may  do  what  you  wish,"  replied  Cicely, 
"but  I'm  going  to  stop  making  a  joke  of  myself!" 
and  forthwith,  deserting  her  post,  she  flew  across  the  room 
and  peeped  out  into  the  hall  in  search  of  excitement. 


186     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Excitement  was  a  thing  Cicely  seldom  had  to  seek 
in  vain.  She  was  one  of  those  people  who  draw  events 
like  a  magnet;  and  if  none  came  to  her  of  its  own  ac- 
cord, she  could  always  create  one.  This  time  she  found 
material  ready  to  her  hand:  it  was  the  hour  of  the  day 
when  the  younger  men  stopped  work  and  went  a-plea- 
suring,  and,  as  they  were  not  afraid  of  weather,  and  all 
devoted  to  Cicely,  they  were  beginning  to  arrive  in  force. 
She  greeted  them  with  delight,  and,  shaking  hands  un- 
ceremoniously with  them  two  at  a  time,  drew  them  into 
the  room,  and  settled  them  cosily  around  her  in  a  corner. 
Now  that  there  was  something  going  on,  she  was  in- 
stantly in  gay  spirits;  mirth  and  laughter  began  to  rise 
about  her  like  an  aura,  and  intoxicate  her.  Lowering 
her  voice,  she  plunged  into  an  animated  description  of 
the  afternoon's  programme,  mimicking  the  visitors  one 
after  another  with  irresistible  drollery.  Shouts  of  appre- 
ciation drowned  the  Hungarian  wails,  and  her  encircling 
admirers  crowded  closer  and  closer:  each  new  arrival, 
drawn  by  the  visible  merriment,  came  post-haste  to 
join  the  group;  and  presently  the  whole  bachelor  con- 
tingent was  welded  into  a  tight  mass  in  one  corner  of 
the  drawing-room,  exploding  with  glee. 

Mrs.  Davidson,  still  standing  at  her  post  at  the  other 
end  of  the  room,  high-principled  and  alone,  stiffened 
minute  by  minute  into  more  and  more  intense  disapproval. 
She  could  follow  Cicely's  pranks  plainly  enough,  as  Mrs. 
Kaltenborn's  slow  turtle-gestures  succeeded  Mrs.  Simms' 
iron-firm  jaw;  and  the  fact  that  she  could  not  hear  the 
conversation  did  not  tend  to  make  her  indorse  it  the 
more  warmly.  At  last  she  could  stand  it  no  longer. 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE    187 

Abandoning  her  post,  she  crossed  the  room  with  a  deter- 
mined step,  and  joined  the  group. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  shall  have  to  interrupt  you,"  she  said 
firmly.  "  I  must  speak  to  Mrs.  Ford.  I  think  you  will 
find  Mr.  Ford  in  the  dining-room." 

The  men,  who  had  been  too  absorbed  to  observe  her 
approach,  jumped  up  in  some  confusion,  and  received 
their  dismissal  with  barely  concealed  chagrin.  Cicely 
rose  too,  flushing  violently.  She  understood  her  mentor's 
action  clearly  enough,  and  was  furiously  angry;  and  as 
soon  as  the  hall  door  had  swallowed  her  admirers,  she 
turned  with  flashing  eyes  and  stood  at  defiance. 

"  Why  did  you  do  that?  "  she  demanded  hotly. 

"  For  your  own  good,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson  severely. 
"  You  are  neglecting  your  duty,  and  receiving  too  much 
attention  from  too  many  men." 

"  Am  I  indeed !  "  said  Cicely.  "  Who  told  you  that, 
please?  " 

"  My  own  eyes  told  me,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson,  flushing 
also.  "  Not  only  now,  but  many  other  times.  It  will 
not  be  long,  let  me  assure  you,  before  other  people's 
tongues  tell  me  too." 

Cicely  was  growing  steadily  more  angry,  but  also 
more  self-possessed.  It  was  only  Roger  who  could  make 
her  forget  past,  present  and  future  in  blind  passion,  be- 
cause the  pain  of  quarrelling  with  him  set  her  beside 
herself.  Now  that  she  saw  Mrs.  Davidson  losing  a  little 
of  her  own  well-controlled  temper,  she  laughed  lightly. 

"  How  interesting!  "  she  said.  "  Whom  will  they  wag 
about?  The  President?  Dr.  Simms?  Promise  to  tell 
me  what  they  say !  " 


188     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Mrs.  Davidson  compressed  her  lips.  "  They  will 
choose  a  subject  much  more  dangerous  to  your  reputa- 
tion/' she  said.  "  You  force  me,  Mrs.  Ford,  to  give  you 
a  warning  that  I  would  rather  withhold.  Your  conduct 
with  unmarried  men  is  not  at  all  what  that  of  a  married 
woman, —  a  university  professor's  wife, —  should  be." 

"  No,  it  is  appalling,"  agreed  Cicely  solemnly. 
"  Pouring  them  a  cup  of  tea  in  the  afternoon !  —  sitting 
in  a  corner  alone  with  ten  of  them !  —  what  an  example 
for  the  young !  " 

Mrs.  Davidson  grew  a  deep,  exasperated  red.  "  You 
know  very  well  what  I  mean !  "  she  said.  "  It  is  all  bad 
enough,  but  your  behaviour  with  young  Maddox  is  out- 
rageous. At  the  last  cotillion  you  danced  with  him  eleven 
times." 

"  Did  I  really!  "  exclaimed  Cicely.  "  What  a  shame! 
I  truly  meant  to  make  it  a  dozen.  I'll  give  him  thir- 
teen at  the  next  one,  to  make  up.  Thank  you  for  keep- 
ing count." 

"  It  is  high  time  you  began  to  keep  count  for  your- 
self ! "  said  Mrs.  Davidson,  too  angry  for  discretion. 
"  You  will  soon  be  a  scandal.  Your  youth  does  not  ex- 
cuse you;  if  you  are  old  enough  to  be  married,  you  are 
old  enough  to  be  responsible  for  your  actions." 

"  I  agree  with  you !  "  retorted  Cicely.  "  And  that  be- 
ing the  case,  I  will  go  now  to  my  telephone  and  ask  my 
friend  Mr.  Maddox  to  come  to  my  house  and  have  tea 
with  me."  And,  head  high,  eyes  flashing,  she  hurried 
past  the  older  woman  and  out  of  the  room. 

"  He  will  be  here  in  five  minutes !  "  she  said,  returning. 
"  Meanwhile,  have  you  anything  more  to  say?  " 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE    189 

Mrs.  Davidson  steadied  herself  with  an  effort.  "  I 
have,"  she  said,  "  but  I  think  I  will  say  it  to  Roger.  It 
will  fall  on  more  fruitful  ground." 

"  It  will  be  flung  back  in  your  face !  "  flashed  Cicely. 
"If  you  think  you  can  make  my  husband  listen  to  slan- 
ders against  me,  you  are  mistaken.  He  has  not  your  sort 
of  mind." 

"  Mrs.  Ford,  be  careful ! "  besought  Mrs.  David- 
son, alarmed.  "  You  are  saying  too  much.  Please 
don't  speak  to  me  again  until  you  can  speak  differ- 
ently." 

"That  will  be  never!"  cried,  Cicely.  "Go  and 
whisper  scandal  to  Roger,  if  you  wish;  I  shall  watch  for 
my  friend."  With  that  she  swept  away  to  the  window, 
brushing  past  Mrs.  Davidson  as  if  she  were  of  too  little 
account  to  be  perceived. 

Very  soon  the  boy  appeared,  bright-eyed  with  excite- 
ment and  flushed  with  running.  Cicely  met  him  at  the 
door  with  eyes  as  bright  as  his,  and,  leading  him  to  the 
farthest  corner  of  the  drawing-room,  sat  down  with  him 
on  a  divan  and  plunged  into  low-voiced  conversation. 
They  talked  about  nothing, —  the  favours  at  the  last 
dance,  the  rehearsals  for  the  play, —  but  their  heads 
were  intimately  close,  and  Cicely,  alert,  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  seeing  Mrs.  Davidson  observing  them  from  the 
doorway.  She  intensified  the  note  of  intimacy,  speak- 
ing more  softly  and  laughing  a  great  deal.  The  boy, 
mystified  but  delighted,  met  her  rather  better  than  half- 
way, with  feverish  zest.  They  were  like  conspirators 
plotting,  or  lovers  whispering,  together.  The  few  re- 
maining guests,  coming  to  say  farewell,  saw  their  hostess 


190     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

so  absorbed,  and  withdrew  in  silence.  Mrs.  Davidson 
disappeared  from  the  doorway  with  a  shocked  face. 

It  was  growing  late,  and  Cicely  was  very  tired.  What 
little  amusement  there  had  been  in  the  thing  staled  sud- 
denly; the  boy,  now  that  he  had  served  his  purpose, 
bored  her;  she  wanted  only  Roger,  and,  failing  him, 
peace  and  rest.  She  rose  with  one  of  her  impetuous 
movements,  bringing  the  boy  unexpectedly  to  his  feet. 

"  Go  home  now,  Pancakes,"  she  said. 

"  But  I  want  to  stay !  "  he  urged.  "  I've  got  lots  of 
interesting  things  to  tell  you." 

"  Some  other  time,"  said  Cicely  ruthlessly.  "  I  don't 
want  you  now." 

"  Oh,  please  — "  began  the  boy,  "  please,  Nuts  — 

"  Cicely !  "  said  Roger,  coming  into  the  room.  "  May 
I  speak  to  you  a  minute,  please?  " 

Cicely  stiffened.  "  I  am  engaged  with  Mr.  Maddox," 
she  said. 

"  So  I  see,"  answered  Roger  in  a  constrained  voice, 
"  but  Dr.  Davidson  has  come,  to  see  you  and  to  take 
Mrs.  Davidson  home,  and  I  wish  you  would  ask  them 
both  to  stay  to  dinner." 

"  That's  impossible,  Roger,"  said  Cicely.  "  We  aren't 
going  to  have  any  dinner." 

"  Cicely !  "  protested  Roger.  "  There's  food  enough 
in  that  dining-room  for  a  regiment.  What  are  we  going 
to  eat  ourselves  ?  " 

"  It's  one  thing,"  said  Cicely  decisively,  "  for  us  to 
snatch  a  sandwich  and  a  cup  of  tea,  and  another  to  offer 
a  dinner  of  that  kind  to  guests.  I  simply  can't  impose 


THE  DIPLOMATIC  WEDGE    191 

on  Hitty  to  the  extent  of  inviting  people  now,  Roger. 
It's  out  of  the  question." 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to,"  said  Roger  stubbornly, 
"  because  I've  already  told  them  you  would." 

Cicely,  with  a  low  exclamation  of  anger,  moved  rapidly 
into  the  hall,  the  boy  following  uncomfortably.  Dr.  and 
Mrs.  Davidson  stood  at  the  farther  end,  evidently  try- 
ing to  keep  up  a  detached  and  impersonal  conversation. 
They  turned  at  the  sound  of  her  skirts,  Dr.  Davidson 
pleased  and  jovial,  his  wife  pale  with  constraint. 

"  Well,  well,  Mrs.  Ford !  "  said  the  genial  doctor,  com- 
ing forward  to  take  Cicely's  hand  in  his  warm  grasp. 
"What  a  time  you've  kept  me  waiting!  I'll  have  you 
dismissed  from  the  Department  if  you're  going  to  treat 
me  like  this:  it's  lese-majeste." 

Cicely  met  his  look  with  eyes  full  of  affection,  but 
turned  at  once  to  confront  his  wife.  "  Mrs.  Davidson," 
she  said,  in  a  cold,  clear  voice,  "  Mr.  Maddox  is  going 
to  stay  to  dinner,  and  Roger  would  like  you  to  stay  too. 
Will  you  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Ford,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson,  her 
look  of  indecision  vanishing  at  Cicely's  tone, — "  I  think 
I  cannot.  Come,  Henry." 

"  Mrs.  Davidson !  "  cried  Roger,  hurrying  forward. 
"  Won't  you  stay,  please?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  let's  stay ! "  said  the  kind-eyed  doctor, 
looking  in  distressed  bewilderment  from  one  overstrung 
woman  to  the  other.  "  Why  not,  Sarah?  " 

"  Roger  wishes  it,  Mrs.  Davidson,"  said  Cicely,  with 
the  hint  of  a  taunt  in  her  voice. 


192     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Davidson,  "  I  have  already  done 
as  much  to-day  —  for  Roger  —  as  I  can.  We  will  go, 
Henry."  She  gathered  her  wrap  about  her,  and  went 
out  with  quiet  dignity. 

Roger  turned  to  Cicely,  his  steady  eyes  ablaze  with 
anger  and  pain.  "  Since  my  friends  are  not  going  to 
dine,  I  will  not  either,"  he  said.  "  Good  night  to  you 
both,"  He  faced  about  sharply,  and  strode  away  to  his 
study,  shutting  the  door. 

The  boy,  left  alone  with  Cicely,  looked  at  her  with 
embarrassed  constraint.  "  I  suppose  I'd  better  go  too," 
he  said,  half-heartedly. 

Cicely  started  with  a  little  shiver,  and  brought  her 
eyes  back  from  the  study  door  to  his  face.  "  Oh,  yes,  go, 
—  go,  Boy !  "  she  said.  "  There  won't  be  any  dinner 
here  to-night."  She  gave  him  her  cold  hand,  and  watched 
him  absently  while  he  fumbled  at  the  catch  of  the  outer 
door,  and  clicked  it  shut  again  behind  him.  Then  she 
brought  her  eyes  slowly  back  to  the  closed  door  of  the 
study. 

"  I  meant  it  for  a  new  beginning,"  she  said  to  herself, 
shivering.  "  And  where  —  where  —  is  it  going  to  end  ?  " 


VIII 

AN    IDYL    IN    MUD    AND    SPLINTERS 

IT  was  Cicely's  first  intention  to  breakfast  in  her  room, 
and  remain  invisible  until  Roger  had  left  the  house;  and 
indeed  she  felt  spiritually  sick  with  unhappiness,  anger, 
and  unadmitted  guilt.  But  she  knew  that  she  had  dealt 
him  a  blow  too  deep  to  be  passed  over,  and  the  knowl- 
edge that  there  must  be  a  battle  made  her  eager  for  it 
even  while  it  terrified  her.  The  end  was  that  impatience 
prevailed  over  dread,  and  a  little  after  the  usual  time 
she  presented  herself  at  the  table,  high-strung  and  fever- 
ish. 

Roger,  who  was  already  breakfasting,  rose,  seated  her, 
and  returned  to  his  own  seat,  in  silence.  He  had  put  a 
strong  guard  upon  himself,  and  did  not  mean  to  speak 
if  he  could  avoid  it.  Cicely,  frightened  by  his  white, 
stern  face,  got  a  new  realisation  of  impending  danger, 
and  tried  for  a  little  to  follow  his  example;  but  silence, 
at  all  times  difficult  for  her,  was  impossible  in  a  moment 
of  tension  like  this,  and  soon  she  flung  all  caution  aside 
in  a  burst  of  nervous  speech. 

"  Oh,  Roger !  how  can  you  sit  there  like  a  stone 
statue?"  she  cried.  "Say  it,  say  it,  for  heaven's  sake, 
and  get  it  over !  " 

193 


194     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Roger  answered  slowly,  in  a  hard  voice.  "  I'm  afraid 
to.  I  may  say  too  much." 

"  I'll  say  it  for  you,  then !  "  said  Cicely  defiantly. 
"  I've  quarrelled  with  your  Mrs.  Davidson,  and  I'm  glad! 
It's  the  best  thing  that  has  happened  to  me  since  I  came. 
Now  she  can  hate  me  as  much  as  she  pleases,  and  I'm 
free  to  hate  her  back  again." 

"  She  doesn't  hate  you,  Cicely !  "  said  Roger,  stung. 
"  She  loved  you  once." 

"  She  didn't !  "  flamed  Cicely.  "  She  loves  you, — 
adores  yon, —  and  so  she  tolerated  me  for  a  little,  and 
patronised  me,  and  preached  to  me  with  her  nose  in  the 
air.  But  I've  had  all  I  can  stand  of  it,  and  I  told  her 
so.  Let  your  worshipping  women  keep  their  interference 
for  you.  I  am  my  own  mistress,  and  I  won't  endure  it; 
I  tell  you  and  her,  I  won't !  "  She  ceased  all  pretence  of 
eating,  and  the  creamy  lace  on  her  breast  rose  and  fell 
with  the  stress  of  her  stormy  breathing. 

Roger,  too,  ceased  trying  to  eat,  and  focussed  his 
eyes  upon  her  face  in  a  look  that  was  both  cold  and  burn- 
ing. "  I  sometimes  wonder,"  he  said  slowly,  "  if  I 
knew  you,  Cicely,  when  I  married  you." 

"  No,  you  did  not!  "  said  Cicely.  "  You  thought  you 
were  marrying  a  puppet  who  would  dance  to  all  your 
tunes,  and  you  were  mistaken.  There  are  a  good  many 
surprises  in  this  business  of  matrimony." 

"  So  it  seems,"  said  Roger  bitterly.  "  The  loss  of 
one's  friends,  for  instance.  And  the  loss  of  one's  — 
ideal." 

"  Oh,  you  haven't  lost  her,"  retorted  Cicely  with  equal 
bitterness,  wilfully  misunderstanding.  "  She  adores  you 


IX  MUD  AXD  SPLINTERS     195 

more  than  ever,  now  that  she  sees  you're  a  martyr.  Run 
to  her  house,  and  cheer  yourself  by  telling  her  all  you've 
suffered !  " 

Roger  rose  from  the  table;  he  had  kept  his  balance, 
and  saw  the  pitiable  folly  of  this  sort  of  talk.  As  she 
too  rose,  he  stood  for  a  moment  looking  down  at  her. 
Behind  all  the  anger  and  pain,  he  loved  her  so !  and  she, 
how  tender  and  pure  and  sweet  she  shone  even  through 
this  ugly  mist  of  wrath  and  recrimination !  They  stood 
a  yard  apart, —  they  who  had  been  so  ineffably  one  in 
flesh  and  spirit, —  and  were  sundered  one  from  the  other 
by  a  thousand  miles  of  misery.  And  yet,  even  now,  one 
little  word  —  one  little  kiss  — 

But  the  perverse,  malignant  genius  who  rules  these 
crises  had  the  situation  well  in  hand.  In  her  hurried 
dressing,  Cicely,  afire  with  angry  revolt,  had  chanced 
upon  the  boy's  little  pin,  and  had  snapped  it  on  in  in- 
stant defiance  of  Mrs.  Davidson.  Now,  as  she  stood 
gathering  herself  for  another  outburst,  her  fingers  played 
with  it  unconsciously,  twisting  it  among  the  laces  it 
held:  and  Roger's  eyes  inevitably  fastened  upon  it.  His 
hands  clenched,  and  his  jaw  set  again;  the  moment  of 
rainbow  possibilities  was  past. 

"  One  thing  I  must  say,  Cicely, — "  he  began,  and 
stopped. 

"  Well,  say  it !  "  taunted  Cicely.  "  Don't  mind  me ! 
Mrs.  Davidson  is  an  angel,  and  I  am  a  devil  —  is  that 
it?" 

Roger  grew  a  shade  whiter;  she  tried  him  sorely. 
Nevertheless,  having  determined  to  speak,  he  drove  him- 
self on.  "  It's  about  —  Maddox,"  he  said.  "  I  wish  you 


196     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

would  not  see  him.  He's  getting  a  bad  reputation;  he 
has  been  very  wild  since  —  since  —  these  last  few  weeks. 
He's  not  a  fit  companion  for  you."  He  spoke  harshly. 
The  subject  was  hateful  to  him;  constantly  aware  of  his 
jealousy  of  the  boy,  he  had  more  than  once  choked  back 
the  name  when  it  was  upon  his  lips,  and  now  that  he 
had  forced  himself  to  mention  it,  it  was  with  a  violence 
that  startled  him. 

Cicely  started  as  if  she  had  been  struck.  "  Roger !  " 
she  cried  in  a  sharp  voice.  "  What  are  you  saying  ? 
What  do  you  mean?  " 

Her  excitement  stabbed  him  into  a  new  torture  of 
jealousy,  and  he  answered  fiercely.  "What  I  say!" 
he  exclaimed.  "  I  want  you  to  keep  away  from  him, 
—  do  you  understand  ?  I  want  your  friendship  broken 
off, —  to-day  —  this  minute." 

Cicely  grew  white  to  the  lips.  "  Mrs.  Davidson  told 
you  to  say  that,"  she  said,  in  a  strangled  voice. 

"  What  if  she  did  ?  "  retorted  Roger.  "  She  is  my 
friend, —  my  only  one,  I  begin  to  think." 

"  And  you  listen  —  to  what  another  woman  —  says  of 
your  wife, — "  said  Cicely,  choking.     "  And  come  here  — 
and  repeat  it  to  me  — " 

"  I  do;  I  repeat  it,"  said  Roger,  his  excitement  mount- 
ing in  step  with  hers.  "  I  want  your  friendship  with  him 
to  end ;  I  will  not  have  you  dragged  through  scandal !  " 

"  You  —  you  say  this  to  me !  "  gasped  Cicely,  staring 
at  him  with  dilated  eyes ;  and  suddenly  she  flung  out  her 
arms  in  a  wild  gesture.  "  Oh,  it's  intolerable !  "  she 
cried.  "  Oh,  it's  horrible,  horrible  !  Roger  —  Roger  — 

For  a  moment  they  stared  at  each  other  in  a  ghastly 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS     197 

silence,  a  thousand  devils  of  anger,  jealousy,  passionate 
love  and  hate  struggling  almost  palpably  between  them. 
Then  Roger,  gritting  his  teeth  together,  turned  away. 
"  I  must  go,  quickly !  "  he  muttered ;  and  with  the  words 
the  door  closed  hard  behind  him. 

§ 

Cicely,  hastily  dressed  for  the  street,  hurried  through 
the  campus  at  a  pace  that  was  almost  a  run.  She  was 
blind  with  emotion, —  rage,  resentment,  and  a  pain  so 
keen  that  it  was  like  pleasure.  Nothing  had  ever 
stirred  the  depths  of  her  as  this  last  scene  with  Roger 
had  done.  The  excitement  under  which  they  had  both 
laboured,  his  vehemence  that  was  born  of  reluctance  and 
looked  like  fury,  combined  to  make  her  think  his  pro- 
hibition an  act  of  distrust  and  tyranny,  instead  of  the 
simple  warning  he  had  meant  it  to  be;  and,  as  in  all 
pure  and  proud  women,  her  instinct  demanded  fiercely 
that  her  dealings  with  men  be  inviolate,  sans  peur  et 
sans  reproche.  The  intrusion  of  another  woman  be- 
tween them  in  such  a  matter  made  the  blow  one  which  few 
men  could  comprehend,  and  no  woman  endure.  "  Oh, 
how  could  he,  how  could  he !  "  she  cried  over  and  over, 
beneath  her  breath.  "  Oh,  it's  unthinkable !  It's  not 
to  be  borne  !  " 

Inevitably,  as  she  raged,  she  passed  from  blind  pas- 
sion to  blind  defiance;  and  the  first  impulse  of  her  de- 
fiance was  towards  the  boy.  Her  intention  to  seek  him 
must  have  been  born  before  she  was  consciously  aware 
of  it,  for  when  she  collected  her  thoughts  she  found  her- 
self hurrying  steadily  towards  the  grey  old  chapel,  the 


198     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

place  to  which,  at  this  hour,  he  must  of  necessity  be 
bound.  The  bell  stopped  ringing  as  she  came  within 
sight  of  it,  and  the  last  dark  cluster  of  boys  drifted  in- 
side the  Gothic  door;  but  she  still  hastened  on,  unshaken 
in  her  determination:  and  just  at  the  corner  of  the 
chapel  she  met  him  face  to  face. 

Late  as  he  was,  he  was  strolling  along,  hands  in 
pockets,  as  if  haste  were  a  thing  he  had  never  heard 
of.  His  battered  campus  hat  was  pushed  back  on  his 
dark  head,  and  his  handsome,  charming  face  looked  reck- 
less and  sullen.  He  was  singing,  noisily,  grim  words 
to  a  rollicking  tune  that  smote  oddly  against  the  Doxol- 
ogy  just  rising  in  the  chapel, — 

"  Then  drink  till  you're  blind,  boys, 
The  devil  walks  behind,  boys, 

With  a  drag-net  for  your  souls !  "- 

but  as  he  saw  Cicely  he  broke  off  his  song,  caught  his 
hat  from  his  head,  and  swept  her  a  deep  bow. 

"  Hail,  Lady  of  the  Woodland  Ways !  "  he  called. 
"  How's  the  weather  in  Arcady?  " 

Cicely,  even  while  she  waved  her  hand  in  a  gay,  wild 
gesture  of  greeting,  recognised  in  him  the  same  defiant 
excitement  with  which  she  was  filled.  She  ran  to  meet 
him.  "  I've  moved  out  of  Arcady  for  good,  thank  you !  " 
she  cried. 

"  Same  here,"  said  the  boy.  "  What's  your  address 
now,  Nuts  ?  " 

"  Oh,  now  I'm  living  in  the  mud  and  slush  of  the 
every-day  world !  "  answered  Cicely. 

"  How  d'you  like  it?  "  inquired  the  boy. 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS     199 

"  Oh,  I  love  it,"  said  she.  "  Come,  let's  go  where  it's 
thicker;  this  place  stifles  me." 

"I'm  with  you,"  rejoined  the  boy.  "Mud's  my  ele- 
ment at  present, —  much  more  than  chapel."  And,  turn- 
ing away  from  the  beckoning  door,  he  hurried  with  her 
down  the  wide  mall  and  out  to  the  gate  at  the  farthest 
edge  of  the  campus.  "  Here  you  are !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Slush  enough  to  drown  in ;  mud  enough  to  be  buried  in. 
What  shall  we  do  ?  "  He  looked  around  with  restless 
eyes,  eager  for  excitement. 

Cicely  too  looked  eagerly  around.  Now  that  she  had 
publicly  asserted  her  defiance  by  joining  the  boy,  she  was 
full  of  a  wild  elation;  she  felt  irresponsible  as  a  bubble, 
reckless  as  a  flame;  she  had  cast  aside  all  prudence  and 
discretion.  "Oh,  anything!  anything  we  shouldn't!" 
she  cried.  "  Come,  let's  hunt  for  mischief !  "  And  she 
ran  out  of  the  gate  and  down  the  country  road,  the  boy 
at  her  heels. 

On  this  side  the  campus  outran  the  town  and  abutted 
on  the  open  country;  and  across  the  road,  at  a  little 
distance,  was  the  place  Mrs.  de  Mullen  had  chosen  for 
her  building  enterprise.  It  had  been  a  lovely  and  idyllic 
spot, —  a  sloping  meadow  set  with  boulders,  a  grove  of 
pines,  a  little  girdling  brook.  Now  masons,  carpenters 
and  artisans  of  all  kinds  had  turned  it  into  a  jumble  of 
miscellaneous  debris ;  trees  had  been  felled,  rocks  up- 
rooted, half-finished  walls  set  starkly  up;  and  to  com- 
plete the  havoc  and  insure  the  flashing  of  the  finished  re- 
sult with  sufficient  glitter  upon  the  public  eye,  the  whole 
had  been  surrounded  by  a  high  board  fence  of  almost  in- 
credible ugliness. 


200     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Cicely's  eyes  fell  on  this  barricade,  and  lighted  at  once. 
"  Let's  go  over  to  the  shottoe,"  she  cried,  "  and  drop  a 
card  on  the  Duchesse  Desmoulins !  I'm  sure  we  should 
find  something  there  for  little  helping  hands  to  do." 

"  To  be  sure !  "  said  the  boy.  "  Let's  fresco  the  fence. 
It's  an  opportunity  no  true  artist  would  miss." 

"  What  a  delicious  idea !  "  exclaimed  Cicely.  "  It 
would  make  Mrs.  Davidson's  hair  stand  on  end.  I'll 
race  you  to  it,  Pancakes." 

They  ran  forthwith  along  the  muddy  road,  splashing 
right  and  left,  until  they  reached  the  aperture  in  the 
fence  where  the  workmen  went  in  and  out.  Here  they 
paused,  reconnoitred,  and  slipped  cautiously  inside;  and 
in  a  moment  emerged  triumphant,  bearing  a  bucket  of 
black  paint  and  two  brushes.  Both  were  flushed  and 
bright-eyed  now  with  the  spirit  of  dare-devil  adventure. 

"  Let's  do  her  a  coat-of-arms !  "  said  Cicely.  "  I  of- 
fered once  to  help  her  compose  one.  Let's  have  a 
lozenge-shaped  shield,  with  a  diamond  rampant — " 

"  And  a  cough-drop  couchant  — "  said  the  boy. 

"  And  a  crow-bar  potent,  to  indicate  the  origin — "  said 
she. 

"  And   a   coronet,  to   show   the  present   elevation  — 
added  he. 

"  And  a  motto  —  oh,  give  me  a  piece  of  paper  and  a 
pencil,  Pancakes !  "  cried  Cicely.  "  This  is  going  to  be  a 
masterpiece."  She  sketched  hastily  on  the  back  of  a 
letter  produced  from  the  boy's  pocket.  "  On  a  ground  or 
(that's  the  fence),  a  lozenge  sable  (too  bad  we  couldn't 
find  any  paint  but  black),  quartered  with  coronets,  cough- 
drops,  diamonds,  and  —  see  those  turned-down  crescents  ? 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS     201 

those  are  haughty  sneers.     Now  for  the  legend, —  what 
shall  we  make  it?  " 

"  Something  aspiring,"  said  the  boy.  ' '  Ad  astra  per 
aspera.'  " 

"  No,  that's  too  impersonal,"  objected  Cicely.  "  It  ought 
to  be  more  definite.  Ex  Hibernia  in  Galliam  —  how's, 
that?" 

' '  Out'  of  Ireland  into  France  ' —  that's  bully !  "  said 
the  boy.     "  Only  she  won't  know  what  you  mean  by  it." 

"  No,  so  she  won't,"  agreed  Cicely.  "  We  must  use  a 
soup-song  of  French, —  as  the  French  say."  She  re- 
flected in  silence  for  a  minute,  pinching  her  lip;  then, 
with  a  triumphant  cry,  exclaimed,  "  Pas  a  pas,  de 
pastilles  a  pate!  " 

"  Oh,  my  eye,  Nuts !  "  cried  the  boy.  "  It's  a  master- 
stroke !  Rough  on  the  diamonds,  but  a  pippin  of  an 
epigram.  I  wish  I  could  blazon  it  in  rainbow  tints  across 
the  arch  of  heaven;  but  since  I  haven't  time  for  that, 
here  goes  with  the  paint!  After  all,  that  was  good 
enough  for  Michelangelo."  He  set  to  work  vigorously 
on  one  side  of  the  gate,  and  Cicely,  plunging  whole- 
heartedly into  the  enterprise,  followed  his  lead  and  re- 
produced the  design  on  the  other. 

When  it  was  done,  they  both  stood  back  and  surveyed 
their  work  with  admiration.  The  embellishments  were 
rather  vague  in  outline,  and  the  paint,  applied  over- 
generously,  had  run  down  in  many  black  streaks  and 
rivulets,  but  the  sentiment  stood  forth  large  and  legible 
for  all  who  ran  to  read.  The  boy  seized  Cicely's  hand 
and  wrung  it  in  congratulation. 

"  That's    a   triumph,    Nuts !  "    he   exclaimed.     "  They 


202     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

stand  up  like  the  Roman  Aqueduct.  Nobody  can  go 
within  half  a  mile  and  not  see  them." 

"  Glorious !  "  agreed  Cicely.  "  This  is  a  proud  day 
for  the  noble  House  of  de  Mullen,  and  we're  public 
benefactors  to  give  it  so  much  free  advertising.  What 
shall  we  do  next?  " 

The  boy  looked  up  and  down  the  street,  and  back  at 
Cicely.  "  What  should  you  say  to  a  joy  ride?  "  he  sug- 
gested. 

"  I'd  say,  lead  me  to  it!  "  said  Cicely  promptly. 

"  Come  on,  then !  "  said  the  boy ;  and,  catching  her 
hand,  he  ran  with  her  to  the  farther  corner  of  the  fence, 
and  indicated  with  a  sweeping  gesture  a  restless  horse 
tethered  to  a  tree,  and  a  wagon  containing  plumbers' 
supplies. 

"  Finger  of  Providence,"  he  said.  "  We  don't  know 
what  to  do,  and  neither  does  this  horse ;  and  the  wicked 
plumber,  who  ought  to  be  minding  his  wagon,  is  off 
plumbing  and  plundering  an  honest  man.  Hop  in, 
Nuts." 

"  You're  inspired,  Pancakes  !  "  declared  Cicely.  "  I 
never  should  have  thought  of  anything  half  so  thrill- 
ing as  kidnapping  a  plumber's  wagon." 

"  You  haven't  got  my  cause  for  inspiration,"  said  the 
boy,  pulling  off  the  horse's  blanket  and  rolling  it  into  a 
ball.  "  When  you're  in  a  fix  like  mine,  perhaps  you'll 
rise  to  equal  heights.  You  may  have  heard  how  I've  dis- 
tinguished myself  lately, —  yes?  thought  likely;  —  well, 
at  the  present  moment  I'm  due  in  the  Dean's  office  to 
show  just  cause  why  I  shouldn't  be  fired.  Hence  my 


IN  MUD  AXD  SPLINTERS     203 

adaptability.  It's  in  these  exigencies,  Nuts,  that  we  show 
what  we  are  really  made  of." 

"  Oh,  well,  my  experience  may  not  be  as  limited  as  you 
think,"  said  Cicely,  in  a  voice  that  reflected  the  bitterness 
of  his.  "  How  do  you  know  you're  the  only  crisis- 
jumper?  Just  wait  till  the  next  time  we  need  an  in- 
spiration, and  see  if  I  don't  show  some  knack." 

"  Oh,  is  it  that  way  ?  "  said  the  boy,  looking  at  her 
curiously.  "  Come  on,  then !  Go  it  while  you're 
young!  "  And,  stuffing  the  blanket  under  the  seat,  he 
pulled  Cicely  up  into  the  wagon,  gathered  the  reins,  and 
laid  the  whip  across  the  horse's  back  with  a  wild  yodelling 
whoop. 

"  Gracious,  this  is  exciting!  "  exclaimed  Cicely,  clutch- 
ing the  seat  with  both  hands  as  they  crashed  along  the 
street.  "  Coaching  through  the  Alps  is  nothing  to  it. 
Look  out  for  that  tree,  Pancakes !  " 

"  Oh,  we  haven't  begun  to  hit  the  pace  yet!  "  rejoined 
the  boy,  slewing  round  a  corner  on  two  wheels.  "  Wait 
till  we  get  warmed  up,  and  transmit  some  inspiration  to 
this  blooded  charger.  We'll  show  'em  —  eh,  Buceph- 
alus ?  "  He  flicked  the  horse  again,  and  that  respon- 
sive animal,  frisky  with  standing  in  the  cold,  jumped  for- 
ward so  impetuously  that  the  adventurers'  feet  flew  up 
in  front  of  them. 

They  were  now  well  away  from  the  village,  on  the 
long  road  known  as  "  the  old  turn-pike,"  which  linked 
town  to  town  straight  across  the  state.  No  vehicles  were 
in  sight;  it  was  out  of  season  for  automobiles,  and  the 
milkmen  had  long  since  made  their  morning  journey. 


204    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Cicely  looked  at  the  long  clear  stretch  ahead  of  them, 
took  the  whip  from  the  boy's  hand,  and  plied  it  expertly. 

"  Here's  your  chance,  Bucephalus !  "  she  said.  "  Just 
look  ahead  of  you,  and  show  what  you're  made  of !  " 

"  Right  you  are,  Nuts !  "  cried  the  boy.  "  A  two- 
mile  speedway,  and  not  a  soul  in  sight.  Hit  her  up,  old 
Hide-rack!  Put  some  pep  in  it!  " 

The  horse,  fired  by  this  encouragement,  dashed  ahead 
with  streaming  mane  and  tail,  the  wagon  rocked  and 
swayed,  and  the  mud  splashed  generously.  The  boy 
stood  up,  and,  seizing  the  whip  again,  waved  it  over  his 
head  and  shouted,  "  Yoicks,  tally-ho !  Watch  us  blaze 
a  way  to  glory !  Hop  to  it,  old  Willow-plumes !  " 

"  Sit  down,  Pancakes !  "  exclaimed  Cicely,  clutching 
his  coat.  "  You'll  lose  your  balance  and  fall  out,  and 
then  where  will  you  be  ?  " 

"  In  the  gutter,  where  I  belong !  "  said  the  boy.  "  I 
couldn't  be  in  any  worse  hole,  so  why  not  try  'em  all? 
Shows  my  versatility  —  how  many  kinds  of  a  fool  I 
can  be.  Go  it,  Pegasus !  " 

The  defiant  bitterness  of  his  tone  made  Cicely  glance 
quickly  at  his  face.  "  You  are  foolish,"  she  said  soberly. 
"  Think  of  your  cutting  chapel,  and  losing  your  chance 
with  the  Dean,  for  a  piece  of  folly  like  this !  " 

"  Well,  how  much  better  off  are  you  ?  "  retorted  the 
boy.  "  You're  rooted  to  the  path  of  prudence  and  duty, 
I  suppose?  Come  off,  Nuts!  It's  a  case  of  pot  and 
kettle." 

"  Why,  so  it  is !  "  cried  Cicely,  relapsing  into  reckless- 
ness. "All  right  then,  I'm  with  you.  This  is  stupid; 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS     205 

come,  let's  get  off  the  road,  and  have  a  little  excitement !  " 
She  stood  up  too,  swaying  perilously,  and  waved  her 
hand  towards  the  rolling  country  around  them. 

"  That's  the  idea !  "  approved  the  boy.  "  We'll  try  a 
turn  at  steeple-chasing."  Veering  sharply,  he  drove  the 
astonished  horse  across  the  shallow  ditch  by  the  road- 
side and  straight  into  the  open  field  beyond.  "  Here's 
your  chance,  Pegasus,  to  get  back  to  Nature !  "  he  urged. 

The  frozen  ground  was  furrowed  from  last  year's 
cultivation,  and  the  boy  and  Cicely  both  staggered  as  the 
wagon  lurched  over  the  bumps ;  but  by  some  miracle  they 
kept  their  footing,  and  drove  safely  across  the  first 
field,  and  through  a  gap  in  the  low  stone  wall  that 
bounded  it.  In  the  second  field,  however,  the  ground 
rose  abruptly  to  a  knoll  in  the  middle,  and  then  fell  away 
as  sharply  towards  the  boundary  on  the  other  side;  and 
here  the  horse,  unaccustomed  to  such  vicissitudes  in  his 
usual  peaceful  life  of  plumber's  assistant,  began  to  show 
symptoms  of  balking.  The  boy,  his  eyes  bright  with 
devil-may-care  excitement,  plied  the  whip  and  urged  him 
on.  "  Up  with  you !  "  he  cried.  "  Charge,  Chester, 
charge!  What,  you  wouldn't  be  daunted  by  a  mole-hill 
like  this?  Look  at  Nuts  and  me,  how  gallantly  we  take 
our  ups  and  downs !  " 

"  They'll  be  more  downs  than  ups  before  long !  "  said 
Cicely,  swaying,  as  they  crossed  the  brow  of  the  little 
hill  and  began  to  plunge  forward.  "  Look  out,  Pan- 
cakes,—  there's  a  stone  wall  just  in  front  of  us  —  oh,  look 
out !  " 

"  Let  the  stone  wall  look  out  for  us !  "  shouted  the 


206     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

boy.  "  Come,  we'll  try  hurdling.  Spread  your  wings, 
Pegasus!  One,  two,  three,  and  at  'em!  Watch  the 
birdmen !  " 

Cracking  his  whip,  he  lifted  the  horse  to  the  jump. 
The  noble  steed  rose  with  a  lunge,  dashed  the  wagon 
against  the  wall  with  a  splintering  shock,  and  hung 
kicking  in  the  shafts  for  a  moment.  Then,  wrenching 
himself  free  of  the  wrecked  harness,  he  turned  away 
without  even  a  sign  of  farewell,  and  trotted  briskly  back 
towards  Cheltenham. 

Cicely  and  the  boy,  who  had  both  described  sudden 
semicircles  out  of  the  wagon,  sat  up  in  the  muddy  field 
and  gazed  at  one  another.  By  the  interposition  of  that 
Providence  which  succours  the  intoxicated  and  the  in- 
sane, they  had  both  escaped  injury,  barring  a  bruise  or 
two;  and,  mud-plastered  and  dazed  into  speechlessness, 
they  stared  from  each  other  to  the  wrecked  wagon  and 
the  departing  horse,  and  back  to  each  other  again.  Then, 
the  situation  fully  realized,  with  one  accord  they  burst 
into  laughter. 

"  Oh,  Nuts !  "  cried  the  boy.  "  How  are  the  mighty 
fallen !  You  soared  down  from  your  perch  like  a  shoot- 
ing star.  Have  you  all  your  bones  ?  " 

"  All, —  and  a  few  more  that  are  strangers  to  me," 
gasped  Cicely,  convulsed.  "  I  can  feel  four  hundred  and 
twelve  of  them  —  standing  up  on  end.  Well, —  that  was 
sudden,  Pancakes !  Even  the  sun  never  set  so  quickly." 

"  You  —  you  gave  a  little  sputter,"  exploded  the  boy, 
"  and  then  you  went  up  like  a  rocket, —  and  came  down 
like  the  stick.  And  old  Pegasus  remembered  an  engage- 
ment with  the  Cheltenham  Muses, —  and  the  plumber- 


wagon  repented  of  its  sins,  and  turned  into  a  respectable 
pile  of  junk, —  and  your  hat,  and  my  hat,  and  the  tools, 
and  the  pieces  of  lead  pipe, —  O  where  are  they?" 

"  Ask  of  the  winds,  that  far  and  wide  with  fragments 
strewed  the  sea ! "  cried  Cicely.  "  It  was  a  noble 
cataclysm.  A  little  more,  and  we'd  have  spilled  out  our 
immortal  souls." 

"  Mine  was  gone  already,"  said  the  boy,  rather  grimly. 
"  Well,  Nuts,  what  now  ?  It's  your  turn  to  get  an  in- 
spiration." 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Cicely.  "  Well,  the  first  one  that 
comes  to  me  is  that  we  might  as  well  leave  this  flowery 
bed  of  ease  before  we  dissolve  in  the  mud, —  if  we  can." 
She  stretched  her  limbs  gingerly,  and  scrambled  slowly 
to  her  feet,  while  the  boy,  on  his  side  of  the  wagon,  did 
the  same.  "  So  far,  so  good,"  said  she.  "  Now  then, 
let's  consider.  Lost  in  the  desert;  noon  coming  on;  five 
miles  from  luncheon,  and  a  wagon  to  drag.  Have  you 
any  money  ?  " 

"  A  nice  fat  cheque-book,"  grinned  the  boy. 

"  Exactly,"  said  Cicely.  "  And  I've  got  a  nickel  in 
my  coat-pocket.  Our  faces  are  our  fortunes.  What  do 
you  say  to  begging  from  door  to  door?  " 

"  Me  for  the  pike !  "  replied  the  boy  promptly.  "  That's 
a  bully  idea.  You're  a  credit  to  your  crisis,  Nuts." 

"And  you're  a  coadjutor  worth  having,"  said  Cicely. 
"  Here  goes,  then.  We  don't  need  much  make-up;  our 
whole  morning  has  been  one  steady  preparation  for  this 
solemn  moment."  She  surveyed  herself  and  her  compan- 
ion in  detail,  nodding  her  approval:  indeed  they  were  a 
striking  contrast  to  the  aristocratic  young  couple  who  had 


left  the  campus  at  chapel-time  -  hatless,  dishevelled, 
spattered  with  black  paint  and  coated  with  mud  from 
top  to  toe.  "  We  might  add  a  finishing  touch  or  two, 
just  to  make  us  feel  festive/'  she  decided.  "  Let's  change 
coats,  and  put  them  on  inside  out;  and  I  want  your  over- 
shoes, please ;  and  you  put  on  the  horse-blanket, —  it's 
still  under  the  seat.  Let  me  take  your  knife.  Now  rub 
your  hands  over  your  face, —  on  your  nose, —  so.  Oh, 
you're  perfect!  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  look  half  as  dis- 
reputable as  you !  " 

"  You'll  do  very  well,  Nuts !  "  cried  the  boy,  laughing 
hilariously.  "  My  eye !  the  squirrels  would  run  you  out 
of  town.  I  wish  I  had  your  picture !  You  look  like  an 
insane  lady  thug, —  refined,  but  desperate !  " 

Laughing  at  each  other,  they  began  to  plod  across  the 
rough  field  towards  the  nearest  farmhouse.  Cicely  had 
tied  on  the  boy's  overshoes  with  string,  cut  off  the  finger- 
tips of  her  neat  gloves,  and  pinned  up  her  trig  skirt  here 
and  there  so  that  it  hung  in  disreputable  scallops;  with 
his  coat  turned  wrong-side-out  and  the  collar  pinned  to- 
gether under  her  chin,  she  made  a  fantastic  figure  of 
destitution.  The  boy,  draped  in  his  plaid  blanket,  with 
his  smudged  face  peering  from  under  his  tousled  hair, 
and  his  amethyst  necktie  tied  in  a  bow  on  the  top  of  his 
head,  looked  like  the  aboriginal  ancestor  of  all  ragamuf- 
fins. They  were  wildly  gay;  though  each  felt  that  his 
own  laughter  rang  hollow,  each  laughed  the  louder  in  the 
hope  of  deceiving  the  other  and  himself. 

"  Now,"  directed  Cicely,  "  I'm  going  to  do  the  talking, 
and  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  look  hungry  and  piteous. 
Answer  '  Yes,  kind  sir/  or  '  God  bless  you,  lady,'  if  any 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS     209 

one  speaks  to  you;  and  smack  your  lips  anxiously  at 
regular  intervals." 

"  You're  a  great  general,  Nuts!  "  said  the  boy.  "  I'll 
back  you  to  provide  a  Ritz-Carlton  spread  in  two  min- 
utes, or  to  get  the  dogs  set  on  us  in  one.  This  is  the 
best  lark  yet ;  come,  let's  hop  to  it !  " 

At  the  first  house  they  tried,  no  one  was  at  home;  at 
the  second,  a  nervous  woman,  peering  out  between  half- 
closed  shutters,  threatened  to  shoot  them  for  sneak- 
thieves  ;  at  the  third  they  were  informed  that  there  was 
nothing  to  eat,  and  that  if  there  had  been  it  would  not 
be  for  jail-birds  and  tramps.  They  greeted  each  re- 
buff with  a  fresh  access  of  giggles :  but  a  feeling  of 
panic  was  stealing  up  on  Cicely;  the  bubble-like  ela- 
tion was  wearing  away,  and  she  was  conscious  of  the  real 
world  crowding  close,  ready  to  clutch  her.  Suddenly  she 
began  to  run,  as  if  by  speed  she  could  escape  from 
fear;  and  the  boy,  subtly  catching  her  mood,  ran  with 
her. 

The  next  house  was  a  forlorn  affair,  set  close  to  the 
roadside  and  visibly  lacking  in  shingles  and  window- 
panes.  They  rushed  into  its  straggling  path,  and,  fol- 
lowing faint  sounds  of  movement,  came  soon  to  a  little 
yard  at  the  back.  Here  a  rosy  Irishwoman, —  sleeves 
rolled  up  from  chapped,  brick-red  arms, —  was  hanging 
out  an  enormous  basket  of  steaming  clothes.  As  the  two 
beggars  came  to  a  sudden  stop  in  front  of  her,  she  lifted 
a  wide  face  and  greeted  them  cheerily. 

"  Good-day  to  yez !  "  she  said.  "  'Tis  fine  weather  it 
is,  fer  the  time  o'  year !  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  returned  Cicely,  surprised  back  into 


210     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

her  normal  manner  by  the  cheery  friendliness  of  the 
greeting.  "  I  hope  you  are  enjoying  it." 

"  Oh,  I've  no  cause  to  complain,"  said  the  woman, 
flapping  a  table-cloth  into  place.  "  Summer's  betther  fer 
dhryin',  but  winther's  the  time  fer  hangin'  over  the 
tubs." 

"  Do  you  always  wash?  "  asked  Cicely.  "  The  whole 
year  round?  " 

"  When  I've  me  health,"  said  the  woman  cheerfully. 
"  There's  whiles  the  rheumatiz  gits  me,  an'  I  have  to  set 
an'  take  me  batin';  but  mostly  I  do  four  of  'em  a  wake, 
reg'lar.  Glory  be,  there's  always  washin'  a-plenty." 

"Do  you  like  it?"  inquired  Cicely,  interested  in  this 
new  method  of  keeping  boredom  at  bay. 

"  I  like  to  see  me  childhren  ate,"  said  the  woman 
laconically.  Then,  with  a  shake  of  her  broad  shoulders, 
"  An'  what  am  I  doin',"  she  demanded,  "  talkin'  of  atin' 
to  hungry  wans  like  yez,  an'  niver  offerin'  yez  a  bite? 
Poor  lambs !  'Tis  manny  a  mile  ye've  thramped  since 
food  passed  yer  lips,  I'm  thinkin'.  An'  by  the  grace  o' 
God  we've  bread  an'  pitaties  to-day  enough  fer  all  that 
should  come,  if  they  wasn't  too  manny."  She  wiped 
her  hands  on  her  apron,  and  turned  to  go  into  the  house. 

"  Oh,  no !  "  protested  Cicely ;  and  the  boy  broke  in, 
"  Please  don't  bother !  —  we  don't  want  anything, 
truly  — " 

"  Whisht !  "  said  the  woman,  with  kindly  peremptori- 
ness.  "Don't  I  know  what  it  is  to  go  hungry?  Hold 
yer  nonsense,  an'  shtand  there  till  I  come,"  She  bustled 
into  the  house,  nodding  and  smiling. 

Cicely  and  the  boy  avoided  each  other's  eyes.     They 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS     211 

wanted  desperately  to  keep  up  the  pretence  of  gay  ad- 
venture, and  how  was  it  possible  in  the  face  of  such 
simple  reality  as  this  ?  They  could  not  even  laugh,  but 
stood  tongue-tied  and  uncomfortable,  each  acutely  aware 
of  the  other's  distress. 

In  a  moment  the  woman  reappeared,  bearing  two  great 
slabs  of  bread  and  two  cold  boiled  potatoes.  Her  broad 
face  beamed  with  pleasure.  "  There !  "  she  said. 
"  Take  it  an'  welcome !  Thank  God  the  time's  past  when 
I  can't  give  food  to  the  hungry.  No,  I  say  take  it!  It 
only  manes  a  thrifle  less  of  pitaties  at  dinner,  an'  we've 
that  much  bread  it's  shouldherin'  us  out  o'  the  house. 
It'll  nourish  me  jest  to  think  o'  yez  wid  somethin'  inside 
ye.  What  good  would  me  food  do  me  if  I  niver  shared 
it?" 

The  fine  sincerity  of  her  giving  silenced  their  pro- 
testations, and  made  them  accept  her  bounty  humbly. 
Cicely,  on  first  impulse,  had  unfastened  a  jewelled  brooch 
to  offer  in  return,  but  a  finer  instinct  prompted  her  not 
to  affront  this  gracious  hospitality,  and  she  gave  only 
thanks.  They  took  their  food,  and  slipped  away  in 
shamed  silence. 

Now  the  bubble  of  false  mirth  was  broken  for  good 
and  all.  Neither  of  them  could  talk,  and  as  for  the 
springs  of  laughter,  they  were  dried.  Presently  the  boy 
stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  took  off  the  ridiculous 
blanket,  and  flung  it  into  the  bushes. 

"What's  the  use!"  he  said.  "The  jig's  up.  It's 
time  to  pay  the  piper." 

Cicely,  with  a  smothered  sob,  knelt  by  the  wayside  and 
crumbled  the  food  where  she  hoped  the  birds  might 


212     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

garner  it.  In  silence,  and  without  a  gleam  of  mirth, 
they  undid  the  silly  preparations  for  their  prank,  and 
resumed  as  nearly  as  possible  their  daily  semblance. 
Then,  speechlessly  and  drearily,  they  trudged  side  by 
side  the  long  miles  back  to  the  town. 


When  Cicely  returned,  weary  in  mind  and  body,  to  the 
little  red  house,  she  found  Roger  just  upon  the  point  of 
leaving  it.  He  stared  in  astonishment  at  her  pallor 
and  disarray;  he  had  supposed  her  at  some  luncheon 
party  in  festal  raiment. 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  In  the  country,"  said  Cicely ;  adding  defiantly,  as  a 
flash  of  her  morning's  spirit  shot  up  again,  "  with  Mr. 
Maddox." 

Roger's  face  darkened,  but  he  spoke  as  quietly  as  usual. 
"  Has  Maddox  returned  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Certainly ;  with  me,"  said  Cicely. 

"  That's  fortunate,"  said  Roger,  and  moved  towards 
the  door. 

"Why?"  asked  Cicely  sharply. 

"  Because  he's  wanted  at  a  meeting  of  the  Discipline 
Committee,"  said  Roger.  "  You've  seen  your  last  of 
Maddox,  I  fancy,  in  Cheltenham."  He  went  out,  clos- 
ing the  door  quickly. 

Cicely,  struck  by  his  tone,  forced  herself  to  reflect. 
The  Discipline  Committee  met  only  when  there  was  a 
question  of  expulsion  to  be  considered;  the  boy  was  then 
in  a  situation  even  more  dangerous  than  he  had  told  her. 
If  the  news  of  these  last  pranks  reached  the  committee 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS    213 

before  its  meeting  was  over,  his  doom  would  be  sealed 
beyond  redemption:  if  not,  he  might  pull  through  on  the 
strength  of  his  former  good  record.  She  saw  clearly 
enough  now  what  she  had  been  too  wilfully  blind  to  see  in 
the  morning,  that  but  for  her  he  would  have  never  strayed 
from  the  path  of  duty,  either  now  or  in  those  earlier 
lapses  at  which  Roger  had  hinted;  and  with  a  shock 
of  remorse  it  came  to  her  that  if  he  were  ruined,  his 
ruin  would  be  at  her  door. 

The  thought  was  a  spur  to  her  tired  faculties.  She 
glanced  at  the  clock.  It  was  quarter  before  three; 
Roger  had  just  gone,  the  meeting  then  was  at  three 
o'clock;  she  had  fifteen  minutes  in  which  to  repair  to- 
day's damages.  In  feverish  haste  she  ran  out  to  the 
main  street,  found  a  cab,  and  set  forth  at  all  the  speed 
her  urging  could  inject  into  the  sleepy  horse  and 
lethargic  driver. 

However,  it  is  one  thing  to  create  a  liberal  amount  of 
disaster  in  a  brief  time,  and  another  thing  to  repair  it 
in  a  briefer.  She  found  the  plumber  well  informed  of 
the  cause  of  his  misfortune,  and  brick-red  with  ill-sup- 
pressed profanity;  the  boy  had  already  endeavoured,  over 
the  telephone,  to  placate  him  with  liberal  offers  of  dam- 
ages, and  had  only  succeeded  in  infuriating  him  to  the 
point  of  going  to  the  Dean  in  person  with  his  complaint; 
and  now  Cicely's  further  overtures  fanned  his  rage 
until  he  threatened  to  get  a  policeman  and  send  both 
her  and  the  boy  to  jail.  She  soon  gave  him  up  in  despair, 
and,  wringing  her  hands  with  impatience,  drove  to  Mrs. 
de  Mullen's ;  but  here  too  the  news  had  preceded  her,  and 
her  card  elicited  from  the  English  butler  the  uncomprom- 


214     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

ising  statement  that  his  mistress  was  "  hout," —  not  even 
"  not  at  'ome,"  a  fine  distinction  in  definiteness  which 
Cicely  perceived  through  all  her  agitation.  And  the 
time  was  passing:  the  boy's  fate  was  even  now  being 
settled;  she  had  led  him  into  trouble,  and  all  avenues  of 
reparation  were  closed  to  her.  She  wrung  her  hands 
again. 

Then  an  idea  flashed  upon  her  with  the  suddenness  of 
an  inspiration.  She  would  go  to  his  accusers,  and  plead 
his  cause  in  person:  she  would  save  him  yet!  She 
stopped  long  enough  in  front  of  Mrs.  de  Mullen's  tem- 
porary abode  to  pencil  a  hurried  word  of  confession,  and 
entrusted  it  to  the  haughty  butler;  then,  urging  her 
driver  to  his  utmost  exertions,  she  set  her  face  eagerly 
towards  the  campus  and  the  scene  of  the  tribunal. 

The  Discipline  Committee  met  in  the  Dean's  office,  at 
the  end  of  the  old  red  Executive  Building.  Cicely 
knocked  on  the  door  with  a  hand  that  trembled  with  ex- 
citement. Inside,  she  could  hear  Roger's  voice,  speaking 
steadily  in  its  usual  quiet  tone:  and,  with  the  thought 
that  she  had  come  here  to  oppose  and  defy  him  openly, 
the  elated,  unreal  feeling  of  the  morning  returned  upon 
her.  Her  fatigue  was  gone,  burned  up  in  a  flame  of 
impatient  eagerness.  She  knocked  again,  unable  to  bear 
a  moment's  delay. 

The  Dean  himself  came  to  open  the  door, —  a  tall,  spare 
man,  keen-eyed,  grey-haired,  and  severe.  He  looked  at 
her  in  astonishment. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  Mrs.  Ford?"  he  asked. 
"  Have  you  lost  your  way?  " 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS     215 

"  No,  I  intended  to  come  here,"  answered  Cicely. 
"  May  I  come  in,  please?  I  have  something  to  say." 

While  the  Dean  stood  trying  to  find  polite  words  for 
the  hesitation  that  appeared  in  his  face,  she  slipped 
quickly  past  him,  and  entered  the  office.  It  was  a  large 
room,  panelled  in  oak,  lined  with  books  and  files  of  rec- 
ords, and  lighted  by  high,  unshaded  windows;  the  centre 
of  the  floor  was  filled  by  a  great  desk,  whose  chair  the 
Dean  had  just  vacated,  and  around  which  sat  seven  pre- 
occupied men.  They  all  turned  and  stared  at  Cicely, 
too  much  amazed  at  her  intrusion  to  rise, —  all  except 
Roger,  who  started  to  his  feet  with  a  white  face,  exclaim- 
ing, "  Cicely!  What  is  it?  Is  anything  wrong?  " 

Cicely  looked  them  all  over  with  cool  and  steady  eyes, 
gleaming  with  defiance.  Here  were  seven  strong  men 
met  to  crush  hope  and  happiness  out  of  one  slip  of  a 
boy ;  and  she, —  no  more  than  a  girl  herself, —  the  only 
one  to  defend  him !  Her  breast  swelled,  and  she  faced 
them,  all  soiled  and  tumbled  as  she  was,  like  a  young 
Amazon  queen. 

"  Keep  your  seats,  by  all  means,  gentlemen !  "  she 
said  scornfully.  "  Yes,  a  great  deal  is  wrong.  You  are 
here  in  your  might  to  judge  a  boy  for  a  number  of  little 
silly  deeds  charged  to  him:  and  I  am  here  to  tell  you 
that  he  did  not  do  them.  I  did." 

A  suppressed  exclamation  went  through  the  room. 
Cicely's  bright  eyes  travelled  over  the  faces,  and  saw 
Dr.  Davidson's  grave  and  troubled,  the  Dean's  startled 
but  sceptical,  Dr.  Reynolds'  ironically  alert,  the  others 
aghast.  She  was  filled  with  triumphant  satisfaction; 


216     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

what  a  stir  she  —  even  she,  slender  and  alone, —  could 
cause  among  these  learned  men !  It  was  stimulating 
and  delightful.  She  felt  as  if  she  were  made  of  some 
volatile  vapour  that  could  ride  on  the  wings  of  the  wind, 
could  blow  in  the  eyes  of  these  stupid  people  and  blind 
them,  or  mock  them  by  sailing  away  through  the  win- 
dow. 

Roger,  very  white,  stood  gripping  the  back  of  his 
chair.  "  You  don't  mean  what  you  say,  Cicely !  "  he  ex- 
claimed. "  It's  a  mistake, —  surely  it's  a  mistake !  " 

"Oh,  not  at  all!"  said  Cicely.  "I'll  prove  it,  if 
you  wish.  The  plumber's  wagon,  for  instance, —  you'll 
find  it,  in  pieces,  in  a  field  at  the  right-hand  side  of  the 
road,  about  five  miles  from  town,  at  the  foot  of  a  little 
hill.  And  the  de  Mullens'  fence, —  you've  heard  about 
that?  Well,  here  is  the  design,  just  as  I  sketched  it." 
She  fished  in  the  pockets  of  her  coat  and  brought  out  the 
envelope  the  boy  had  given  her,  with  her  drawing  on  its 
back.  "  Any  one  who  wishes  can  identify  the  criminal's 
thumbprints,"  she  added  lightly. 

The  committee-men  moved  uncomfortably,  intensely  ill 
at  ease.  Roger's  fingers  opened  and  closed  on  the  chair- 
back,  pressing  it  until  their  tips  were  white.  Cicely's 
gleaming  eyes  challenged  the  tribunal;  and  Dr.  Reynolds, 
stirred,  as  always,  into  hostile  admiration,  responded 
to  their  challenge. 

"  Allow  me  to  examine  the  evidence,  if  you  please !  " 
he  said,  smiling  satirically.  "  This  conflict  of  testimony 
is  interesting."  He  held  out  his  hand  for  the  letter,  and 
Cicely  surrendered  it  with  a  fleeting  look  of  surprise. 

"  I  hardly  follow  you,  Mrs.  Ford,"  said  the  Dean,  in 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS     217 

his  dry,  deliberate  voice.  "  You  say  that  you  are  re- 
sponsible for  the  transgressions  against  personal  prop- 
erty committed  this  morning;  but  Mr.  Maddox  has  just 
stated,  before  us  all,  that  he  was  the  perpetrator." 

"  That's  a  mistake,"  said  Cicely  quickly.  "  I  painted 
on  Mrs.  de  Mullen's  fence,  and  I  stole  the  plumber's 
wagon.  I  want  that  clearly  understood." 

"  It  is  extremely  difficult  to  understand,"  returned  the 
Dean,  "  in  view  of  the  exactly  contrary  statement  that 
has  just  been  made." 

"  Nevertheless  it  is  true,"  insisted  Cicely.     "  I  did  it." 

"  Then  how,"  inquired  Dr.  Reynolds,  holding  up  the 
envelope  with  a  caustic  smile,  "  do  you  account  for  the 
fact  that  this  is  addressed  '  Grant  Maddox,  Esquire  '  ?  " 

Cicely  flushed  a  shade  deeper  with  anger.  "  It  is  Mr. 
Maddox'  property,  to  be  sure,"  she  answered,  "  but  I 
happened  to  have  it  in  my  possession." 

"  Ah !  "  said  he.  "  Is  it  your  habit  to  keep  custody 
of  Mr.  Maddox'  belongings  ?  "  and  his  sharp  glance 
travelled  with  daring  malice  to  the  little  pin  which  she 
still  wore  on  the  front  of  her  frock. 

The  Dean  rose  brusquely,  and  opened  a  door  at  the 
back  of  the  room.  "  Mr.  Maddox !  "  he  said.  "  Kindly 
step  in  here.  Mr.  Reynolds,  with  your  permission,  we 
will  confine  ourselves  to  the  matter  in  hand;  it  is  all  that 
concerns  us." 

The  boy  came  quickly  through  the  door  of  the  ante- 
room. His  eyes  were  bloodshot,  and  his  face  sullenly 
defiant.  At  sight  of  Cicely  he  started  and  flushed  hotly, 
but  said  nothing.  Dr.  Reynolds,  very  angry  at  the  re- 
buke he  had  received,  looked  on  with  a  sneer.  Roger 


218    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

glanced  from  Cicely  to  the  boy  with  eyes  that  gleamed 
startlingly  in  the  haggard  whiteness  of  his  face. 

"  Mr.  Maddox,"  said  the  Dean,  "  I  believe  you  told 
us  that  you,  and  you  alone,  were  responsible  for  the 
offences  of  this  morning  that  have  been  reported  to  us?  " 

"  I  did,  sir,"  said  the  boy  quickly. 

"  It's  not  true !  "  cried  Cicely. 

"  One  moment,  Mrs.  Ford,"  said  the  Dean,  with  a 
slight  gesture.  "  Mr.  Maddox,  I  understood  you  to  say 
that  you  were  alone  when  these  offences  were  committed." 

"  So  I  was,  sir !  "  said  the  boy  steadily.  "  I  stand  by 
what  I  said." 

"  O  Boy,  how  can  you  ?  "  exclaimed  Cicely.  "  Why,  I 
was  with  him  —  Dean  Graves  —  Roger  —  Dr.  Davidson 
—  I  was  with  him  from  the  minute  he  left  the  chapel 
door !  I  made  him  break  his  appointment  —  I  made  him 
paint  the  fence  —  I  —  I  —  oh,  I'm  the  only  one  to 
blame  !  Believe  me,  please  believe  me !  " 

"  Don't,  Nuts !  "  begged  the  boy.  "  I've  told  them 
everything  that  matters;  they  know  it's  all  my  fault. 
Don't  you  bother  about  it;  I  don't  want  you  to  be 
bothered !  Please  don't !  "  He  moved  nearer  to  her  in 
his  earnestness,  his  brown  eyes  alight  with  a  devotion 
which  he  had  no  thought  of  hiding;  and  now  his  sullen- 
ness  was  all  gone,  and  his  face  was  boyish  and  sweet. 

The  men  looked  at  each  other,  and  looked  away  in  the 
extreme  of  embarrassment. 

"  This  is  a  peculiar  situation,"  remarked  the  Dean, — 
red  with  discomfort,  but  striving  for  a  facetious  manner; 
he  was  an  intensely  conventional  man.  "  This  office  has 
often  held  two  people  who  were  trying  to  evade  a  fault; 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS     219 

but  to  see  two  endeavouring  to  claim  the  same  one  is  new 
to  my  experience." 

"A  very  touching  moment!"  gibed  Dr.  Reynolds. 
"  Fit  material  for  a  poet !  " 

Dr.  Davidson  leaned  forward  in  his  chair,  and  cleared 
his  throat  sharply.  "  I  don't  see  anything  so  unusual 
about  this !  "  he  said,  in  a  voice  of  excessive  cheerfulness. 
"  Two  good  friends  are  loyally  trying  to  get  each  other 
out  of  a  scrape,  that's  all.  It's  very  easy  to  change  the 
complexion  of  matters  a  trifle  under  such  circumstances ; 
—  often  been  in  the  same  boat  myself.  Why  need  we 
detain  Mrs.  Ford  any  longer?  I  move  we  thank  her  for 
her  trouble,  and  depute  Mr.  Ford  to  take  her  home;  we 
have  a  quorum  without  him." 

"  Well  said,  Mr.  Davidson ! "  said  the  Dean,  with 
obvious  relief.  "If  all  are  in  favour,  let  us  act  on  this 
suggestion.  No  objections?  Mrs.  Ford,  we  thank  you; 
Mr.  Ford,  we  release  you  from  further  attendance. 
After  all,  gentlemen,  to-day's  happenings  hardly  matter; 
we  have  enough  material  of  an  earlier  date  to  proceed 
upon." 

Roger,  his  forehead  beaded  with  perspiration,  sprang 
forward  with  an  eagerness  which  showed  the  intensity  of 
his  suffering.  "  Thank  you,  Dean  Graves !  Thank  you, 
Dr.  Davidson !  "  he  said.  "  Let's  go,  Cicely." 

But  Cicely  was  looking  around  her  with  fiercely  shining 
eyes.  She  knew  well  enough  that  she  was  being  packed 
off  to  save  a  difficult  situation,  and  was  hot  with  anger; 
Roger's  eagerness  added  fuel  to  the  flame,  and  Dr. 
Reynolds'  malicious  smile  maddened  her.  On  top  of  all 
came  the  Dean's  sinister  allusion  to  the  boy's  probable 


220     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

fate,  and  the  hungry  eyes  of  the  boy  himself  fixed  on 
her  face,  wakening  the  mbther-instinct  of  defence  within 
her. 

"  I  will  not  go/'  she  cried  vehemently,  "  and  leave  this 
boy  to  shoulder  blame  that  belongs  to  me!  I  will  speak 
the  truth,  however  you  make  eyes  at  each  other!  I  am 
to  blame,  I  alone.  I  was  at  the  bottom  of  all  that  he  did 
this  morning;  and  whatever  he  did  before, —  I  don't  know 
what  it  was, —  he  would  have  done  none  of  it  but  for  me. 
I  am  the  only  one  responsible.  Did  he  ever  get  into 
trouble  before  these  last  two  months  ?  No, —  you  have 
to  say  it, —  never  until  he  met  me.  I  tell  you  I  am  to 
blame  for  it  all.  I  have  been  his  bad  spirit  —  his  —  how 
do  you  say  it  —  evil  genius  ?  —  I  — " 

"  Nuts ! "  interrupted  the  boy,  seizing  her  hand. 
"  Stop  it !  I  won't  have  it !  You,  to  talk  like  this !  — 
Why,  it's  absurd,  it's  preposterous !  You  —  why,  you're 
an  angel!  You're  all  that  is  beautiful." 

"  This  is  very  interesting,"  said  the  Dean,  twisting  his 
long  dry  body  in  misery  at  the  obvious  imminence  of  a 
scandal, — "  but  really,  Mrs.  Ford, —  really,  I  think  it  is 
beside  our  issue.  We  have  to  deal  with  Mr.  Maddox 
on  grounds  in  which  you  could  not  possibly  be  concerned, 
—  grounds  quite  unfit  for  a  lady's  consideration.  I  must 
ask  you,  I  think  —  I  really  must  ask  you  — " 

"  Cicely !  "  said  Roger,  in  a  voice  that  made  them  all 
start,  "  are  you  coming  with  me?  " 

Cicely  stared  slowly  around  the  tribunal.  The  faces  of 
the  kindly  older  men, —  all  gentlemen,  all  scholars,  all 
good  friends, —  were  turned  away  from  her  in  constrained 
distress.  Dr.  Reynolds  alone  looked  at  her,  with  an  open 


IN  MUD  AND  SPLINTERS     221 

sneer  on  his  handsome  features.  The  boy  had  gone  to 
the  window,  and  stood  staring  out  in  blank  despair. 
Roger,  his  face  like  marble,  compelled  her  with  his  blaz- 
ing eyes. 

"  Oh,  what  a  waste  of  breath !  "  she  cried  desperately. 
"  You're  all  deaf  when  I  speak.  Very  well,  I'll  be  dumb. 
Good-bye,  Boy;  they're  all  against  us.  Good-bye;  I'll 


The  campus  was  full  of  people.  Cicely  seared  Roger 
with  the  flame  of  her  look,  but  could  not  speak  to  him; 
and  he  kept  his  eyes  straight  in  front  of  him,  afraid  to 
trust  them  to  meet  hers.  So,  silent  except  when  the 
passing  of  some  friend  forced  a  greeting  from  them,  they 
marched  starkly  side  by  side,  armed  enemies,  back  to  the 
little  house  where  so  lately  they  had  been  laughing 
lovers. 

Once  inside  the  door,  Cicely  turned  upon  him  in  a 
blaze  of  passion  which  scorched  her  from  head  to  foot. 
"  Do  you  call  yourself  my  husband?  "  she  flashed  at  him. 

Roger  faced  her,  trembling  with  an  excitement  no  less 
violent  than  hers.  "  I  thought  I  did,"  he  answered  be- 
tween his  teeth,  "  but  the  manner  of  your  wifehood  makes 
me  doubt  it." 

"  And  you  promised  —  promised  at  the  altar  —  to 
cherish  and  protect  me !  "  she  cried.  "  Have  you  a  dic- 
tionary of  your  own  ?  did  you  mean  '  bully  '  and  '  insult ' 
when  you  said  it?  " 

"  And  you,"  answered  Roger,  white-hot,  "  when  I 
wished  you  not  to  say  '  obey,'  you  told  me  that,  marry- 


ing  me,  it  would  be  your  joy  to  say  it.  I  have  had  a 
superb  demonstration  of  your  joyful  obedience, —  when 
you  set  aside  my  warnings  and  my  wishes,  and  flout  my 
friends,  and  drag  my  name  in  the  gutter  —  that  is  your 
method  of  '  obeying,'  I  suppose !  " 

"  And  this  is  your  method  of  enforcing  obedience !  " 
blazed  Cicely;  and  seizing  a  light  stick  from  the  stand 
beside  her,  she  thrust  it  into  Roger's  hands.  "  Beat 
me !  beat  me !  "  she  cried  wildly.  "  Break  me,  if  you  can ! 
Then  our  marriage  will  be  complete, —  you  can  '  love  and 
cherish  '  in  your  own  fashion,  and  I  will  be  forced  to 
'  obey  ' !  " 

There  was  a  snapping,  crackling  sound,  and  the  stick 
fell  in  two  pieces  to  the  floor.  Roger,  turning  violently, 
began  to  grope  blindly  for  the  door-handle.  "  Keep 
away  from  me,  Cicely,"  he  said  in  a  hoarse  voice.  "  If  I 
touch  you  now,  I  shall  kill  you."  He  fumbled  for  a 
minute  with  the  latch,  wrenched  it  open,  and  banged  the 
door  shut  behind  him. 

Cicely,  hands  clenched  and  eyes  distended,  stood  star- 
ing at  the  splintered  pieces  of  the  stick  at  her  feet; 
and  suddenly  they  looked,  to  her  dazed  vision,  as  if  they 
bled, —  like  two  pieces  of  a  life  that  had  once  been  whole. 

"  And  this  is  —  love,"  she  said  aloud,  slowly. 


IX 


THE    END    OF    THE    WORLD 

AFTER  what  seemed  an  eternity,  Cicely  lifted  herself 
from  the  couch  in  the  drawing-room  and  gazed  about  her. 
The  terrible  storm  of  emotion  that  had  torn  her  spirit 
to  shreds  since  she  parted  from  Roger  in  the  hall, —  the 
tortured  rage,  the  wild  revolt,  the  passion  of  weeping, — 
had  passed;  now,  exhausted,  and  reduced  to  the  state 
where  all  emotion  seemed  one  dull,  illimitable  ache,  she 
tried  to  face  reality.  She  felt  as  if  she  were  awakening 
from  a  dream  of  unimaginable  horrors,  to  a  world  turned 
upside-down  and  emptied  of  all  that  she  had  known  it 
by.  "  I  must  think,  I  must  think,"  she  kept  saying  to 
herself;  and  yet,  in  the  great  surrounding  void  of  de- 
spair, there  seemed  nothing  to  think  about. 

All  around  her  in  the  quiet  room, —  still  fragrant  with 
the  ghosts  of  dead  kisses, —  were  the  ruins  of  her  life. 
She  looked  from  one  accustomed  object  to  another. 
There,  in  the  corner,  was  the  high-backed  chair  which 
Roger  had  twined  with  roses  for  her  birthday;  she  re- 
membered how  he  had  made  her  sit  in  it,  and  had  filled 
her  hands  with  roses,  and  said  she  was  the  rose  of  the 
world.  And  there  was  the  piano  he  had  given  her  so 
proudly,  to  whose  accompaniment  she  had  so  often  sung 

223 


224    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

him  almost  to  tears ;  once,  leaning  over  it,  he  had  told  her 
that  all  the  morning  stars  singing  together  could  not 
make  such  music  as  hers.  Even  the  little  humble  foot- 
stool had  its  memory;  when  he  had  first  got  it,  at  her 
request,  he  had  brought  it  to  her  himself,  and  had  set 
her  foot  upon  it  and  kissed  the  little  satin  shoe,  saying 
that  he  wished  he  could  be  the  footstool  for  such  precious 
feet.  Such  dear  words,  so  trivial  and  sweet, —  so  unre- 
garded !  And  now  the  lips  that  had  seemed  made  only 
for  kisses  had  learned  to  open  for  insults:  marriage  had 
been  desecrated,  holy  love  profaned.  "  Oh,  Roger, 
Roger !  "  she  cried  out  suddenly.  "  Oh,  we  loved  each 
other  so  —  and  now  —  now  — !  O  Roger  —  love,  sweet 
love  —  your  love  —  dead,  dead,  dead !  " 

Well,  now  that  her  eyes  were  opened  to  the  truth, 
there  was  but  one  thing  to  do.  Love  was  dead  between 
them?  Then  their  life  together  was  done.  She  had  all 
the  fierce  instinctive  purity  of  women,  antedating  man- 
made  laws  of  marriage  and  divorce,  which  revolts  from 
nearness  of  the  body  when  nearness  of  the  soul  is  gone. 
Since  Roger  loved  her  no  longer,  she  could  no  longer  be 
his  wife.  She  must  leave  him, —  she  must  go  away. 

When  she  had  reached  her  decision,  she  rose,  took  one 
long  look  about  her,  and  turned  away  from  the  little 
room.  Up  the  twisted  stair  she  climbed  blindly  ("  The 
last  time!  the  last  time!  "),  and  stood  in  the  bedroom  to 
which  she  had  come  a  bright  bride,  making  ready  to 
leave  her  husband's  home. 

§ 
No  more  anger  now,  no  more  bitterness;  only  heart- 


END  OF  THE  WORLD         225 

break.  "  O  Roger,  Roger !  Oh,  I  love  you  so, 
Roger !  .  .  .  O  Roger  —  dearest,  dearest  —  how  can  I 
go  from  you?  .  .  ."  She  took  the  boy's  pin  from  her 
gown,  and  laid  it  with  a  little  shudder  in  an  empty 
drawer,  where  it  should  touch  nothing  of  hers  that  Roger 
had  loved.  Then,  with  a  feeling  of  deathly  sickness  at 
her  heart,  she  pulled  off  her  wedding  ring;  if  she  could 
possess  Roger's  love  and  his  home  no  longer,  she  could 
not  keep  the  symbol  of  wifehood:  but  as  she  went  to  put 
it  away,  her  courage  failed  her,  and  she  slipped  it  on  a 
chain  and  hung  it  around  her  neck ;  the  gold,  touching  her 
warm  flesh  coldly,  made  her  shiver.  She  crept  into 
Roger's  room,  and,  kneeling  by  his  bed,  kissed  his  pillow, 
sobbing  softly;  how  many  times  had  one  pillow  been 
enough  for  both  of  them, —  the  birds  singing  in  the  early, 
early  morning, —  her  head  upon  his  heart !  .  .  .  She 
hurried  downstairs,  afraid  that  if  she  did  not  go  quickly 
she  could  not  go  at  all.  The  door  of  Roger's  study  stood 
open,  and  his  smoking-coat,  the  coat  he  wore  when  he 
was  working,  lay  upon  his  chair.  She  had  not  meant  to 
stop  again, —  but  the  coat,  the  dear  old  workaday  coat 
was  Roger  himself!  She  slipped  into  the  room  and 
pressed  her  face  against  it,  and  the  tears  were  wet  and 
salt  between  her  lips  and  the  rough  cloth.  "  Good-bye, — 
Badger,  my  Badger !  "  she  sobbed. 

In  the  hall  Hitty  met  her.  "  Ther's  a  young  man 
here — "  she  began;  then  stopped,  shocked  by  Cicely's 
pale,  wet  face.  Her  eyes  travelled  slowly  over  the  long 
dark  coat  and  the  hand-bag,  and  back  to  the  wan,  weep- 
ing face  again.  "  You  —  you  goin'  away  ?  "  she  stam- 
mered. 


226    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Yes,  Hitty/'  said  Cicely  in  a  breaking  voice.  "  I'm 
going  away." 

"  For  long?  "  asked  Hitty,  growing  pale  herself  with 
some  nameless  anxiety. 

"  For  very  long!  "  said  Cicely  with  a  sob.  "  O  Hitty 
—  for  always  !  " 

"  Good  land !  "  said  Hitty ;  and  stood  speechless,  her 
fingers  working  convulsively  at  her  apron,  her  face  very 
white. 

"  Good-bye,"  said  Cicely,  starting  towards  the  door. 
She  was  cold  now  from  head  to  foot,  and  moved  numbly. 
"  I  must  go  quickly,  Hitty." 

Hitty  put  out  a  hard  hand  and  touched  her  sleeve. 
"  Don't  ye  go,  Mis'  Ford !  "  she  said  huskily.  "  Stay  a 
spell.  Don't  ye  go." 

"  I  must,"  repeated  Cicely.     "  Good-bye.     O  Hitty  — 
good-bye  —  good-bye  — " 

Hitty  leaned  forward  with  a  dry,  choking  sob,  and 
kissed  Cicely's  wet  cheek.  "  Good-bye,  then,"  she  said. 
"  The  Lord  keep  ye." 

Cicely  nodded  at  her  with  a  white  and  twisted  smile, 
looked  once  more  with  tear-blind  eyes  at  the  silent  rooms 
of  the  little  house,  and  closed  the  outer  door  behind 
her. 


Outside,  the  fog  that  comes  from  melting  snow  hung 
thick  and  wet  upon  the  twilight  air.  The  two  sentinel 
trees  were  cloaked  with  it,  and  the  dead  stalks  where  the 
flowers  had  been  were  beaded  close.  In  the  midst  of 
the  little  lawn  stood  a  dark  figure,  which  Cicely,  all 


END  OF  THE  WORLD         227 

blinded  as  she  was,  would  have  passed  unseeing;  but  at 
the  noise  of  the  closing  door  it  turned,  and  disclosed  the 
haggard  face  of  the  boy. 

"  Xuts !  "  he  said,  hurrying  to  her.  "  I  wouldn't  come 
in,  because  I  thought  your  —  your  husband  might  not  like 
to  have  me.  It's  fine  of  you  to  see  me  here.  Why, 
Xuts!  You  look — "  He  broke  off  abruptly,  staring  at 
her  altered  face. 

Cicely  wiped  the  tears  from  her  eyes,  and  met  his  gaze. 
He  too  was  strangely  changed  from  his  old  debonair  self; 
his  eyes  were  hollow,  his  face  drawn  and  weary.  In 
him,  as  in  her,  you  might  have  searched  endlessly  with- 
out finding  a  trace  of  the  morning's  madcap  gaiety.  The 
game  was  played  out,  and  the  wild  fire  had  died. 

"  I'm  going  away,  Pancakes,"  said  Cicely. 

"  For  a  long  time,  Nuts  ?  "  asked  the  boy,  as  Hitty 
had  done,  but  without  surprise. 

Cicely  nodded  dumbly.  A  voice  within  her  kept  say- 
ing, like  the  dull  ticking  of  a  clock,  "  Forever,  forever, 
forever."  She  looked  about  her,  and  everything  was 
strange  to  her  eyes, —  the  thick,  shrouding  fog,  the  dim 
light,  the  haggard  boy,  Hitty's  white  face  gazing  from 
the  window, —  all  strange  and  dreadful,  like  the  feeling 
of  eternal  farewell  in  her  heart. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Cicely.  "  Anywhere.  My  life 
here  is  over." 

"  So  is  mine,"  said  the  boy.     "  I  came  to  tell  you." 

"They've  expelled  you,  then?"  she  asked  listlessly. 
"It's  all  finished?" 

"  All   finished,"    answered   he.     "  All   in   vain,   Nuts, 


228     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

what  you  did;  and  I  can't  thank  you;  I  can  never  thank 
you.  I'm  to  go  to-morrow,  when  the  Faculty  gets  through 
with  me. —  But  I  won't  wait,"  he  added  suddenly. 
"  I'll  go  now,  when  you  go."  He  took  the  bag  from  her 
hand,  and  started  down  the  little  garden-path. 

Cicely  walked  beside  him,  numb  and  speechless.  The 
little  house,  with  Kitty's  face  at  the  window  and  Roger's 
dear  old  coat  inside,  tugged  at  her  heartstrings,  but  she 
would  not  look  back.  It  was  to  be  done,  and  she  must 
do  it.  With  death  in  her  heart,  she  trudged  away. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  about  the  laboratory  money," 
said  the  boy,  breaking  a  long  silence. 

"  Has  it  gone?  "  asked  Cicely  dully. 

"  Gone  to  Yale,"  said  he.     "  It  was  announced  to-day." 

"I  supposed  so,"  said  Cicely;  adding  drearily,  half 
to  herself,  "  That's  what  my  life  in  Cheltenham  has 
meant, —  ruin  to  Roger, —  ruin  to  you, —  ruin  to  me. 
Why  did  I  ever  come  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Nuts !  "  said  the  boy.  "  What  should  we  have 
done  without  you  ?  " 

"  And  what  have  you  done  with  me?  "  returned  Cicely 
despairingly.  "  Everything  seems  to  be  against  me,  Boy. 
Something  ruins  all  that  I  touch." 

"  Don't  say  that,  Nuts !  "  protested  the  boy.  "  It  isn't 
true." 

"  It's  true ;  it's  true,"  said  Cicely.  "  It  all  began  so 
well !  —  and  now  it's  all  so  wrecked  and  shattered ! 
Everything's  against  me:  everything." 

They  fell  silent  again,  and  trudged  on  until  they  came 
to  the  end  of  the  little  street  and  the  edge  of  the  town. 
Here,  along  a  pine-bordered  highway,  ran  the  long  tracks 


END  OF  THE  WORLD         229 

of  the  electric  road  that  gathered  all  the  distant  ham- 
lets of  the  state  together  in  a  shining  net.  Cicely's  eyes 
followed  the  black,  gleaming  rails  until  they  vanished  in 
fog  and  darkness.  "  That  looks  like  a  long,  long  road/' 
she  said.  "  I  think  I'll  let  it  take  me  away." 

"  Oh,  Nuts,  must  you  go?  "  said  the  boy. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  answered  Cicely  wearily.  "  I  must. 
Don't  keep  me  back." 

He  set  down  the  bag  in  the  snow  and  came  close  to 
her;  and  his  tired,  white  face  was  as  young  and  sweet 
as  a  child's;  on  him,  at  least,  the  discipline  of  these  new 
experiences  had  not  been  wasted.  His  love  for  her  was 
in  his  eyes,  but  now,  purged  of  all  his  recklessness,  it 
was  a  boy's  love,  humble,  chivalrous,  ethereal.  He  had 
no  thought  of  opposing  her  will,  or  of  regarding  this  mo- 
ment in  any  light  but  that  of  an  inevitable  farewell.  For 
a  long  while  they  gazed  in  silence  at  each  other,  with 
great  eyes  made  tragic  by  the  terrible  eternalness  of  the 
sorrow  of  youth. 

Then,  in  the  distance,  the  car  whistled,  curving  around 
the  town  on  its  way  to  where  they  stood.  Cicely  stirred, 
and  gave  the  boy  her  hands. 

"  It's  coming  to  take  me  away,  Pancakes,"  she  said. 

The  boy  lifted  the  hands  to  his  lips,  kissing  the  rough 
little  gloves. 

"  Good-bye,  Nuts,"  he  said  in  a  smothered  voice. 
"  Good-bye." 

Something  in  their  position,  and  in  their  isolation 
there  beneath  the  trees,  brought  again  to  Cicely  a 
memory  of  the  day  when  they  had  first  met  in  the 
woods,  and  she  gave  him  a  sad  little  smile.  "  You  said 


230     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

you'd  never  kiss  me  again  until  I  gave  you  permission, 
Pancakes/'  she  said.  "  I  give  it  now."  She  raised  her 
lips  to  him,  pure  and  sisterly  cold. 

His  lips  met  them  as  purely  and  coldly.  "  O  Nuts, 
you  know  I  love  you,"  he  said  brokenly. 

"  I  know,"  said  Cicely.     "  Good-bye." 

Around  the  curve  of  the  road  the  car,  whistling,  bore 
down  upon  them;  their  hands  pressed  again  and  sepa- 
rated. In  silence  he  helped  her  aboard;  and  stood  back, 
watching,  with  blurred  eyes,  the  slow  movement  of  the 
wheels  that  were  to  take  her  from  him. 

Cicely  pressed  her  cheek  against  the  window.  The 
spires  of  Cheltenham  were  shrouded  thick  in  mist;  the 
boy's  face  stood  white  and  tragic  against  the  dark  pines ; 
the  little  red  house,  with  Roger's  coat  inside  it,  was  hid- 
den from  her  sight.  A  stab  of  agony  pierced  through  and 
through  her  weary  spirit.  "  Have  I  finished  with  life, 
so  soon?"  she  asked  herself;  and  the  wheels,  beginning 
to  revolve,  took  up  the  pitiless  answer,  "  Forever  .  .  . 
forever  .  .  .  forever." 

And  now  the  end  of  the  world  had  come  indeed. 


WAIF  S    ASYLUM 

IN  the  early  winter  morning,  Cicely,  huddled  on  a  boulder 
in  a  sloping  meadow,  gazed  at  the  checkered  fields  and 
sleepy  farm-house  spread  out  before  her.  Fresh  snow 
had  fallen  during  the  night,  and  lay  thick  and  soft  on 
the  ground  and  on  the  black  branches  of  the  trees;  the 
house  was  frosted  like  a  cake,  the  world  was  white  and 
sparkling.  It  Avas  different,  amazingly  different  from 
the  soiled  and  shrouded  world  she  had  left  behind:  there 
all  was  turbid,  feverish  misery;  here,  all  cold,  white 
peace.  She  thought  apathetically  of  the  march  of  emo- 
tions that  had  passed  over  her  since  yesterday, —  of  the 
dreary,  heart-sick  journey,  with  the  car  plunging  through 
dark,  deserted  roads,  and  the  wheels  grinding  their  re- 
frain into  her  soul;  of  the  strangely  desolate  moment 
when  she  had  been  told  that  she  could  go  no  farther,  and 
had  clambered  out  alone, —  she,  so  cherished,  so  lapped 
in  warmth  and  tenderness !  —  into  the  empty  midnight 
streets ;  of  her  shame  and  helpless  anger  when,  with  un- 
disguised insolence,  they  had  refused  her  admittance  at 
the  chief  inn  of  the  town ;  of  the  shuddering,  despairing 
night  she  had  finally  passed  at  a  dingier  and  less  scrupu- 
lous hostelry.  Already  these  experiences  seemed  long 
past  and  far  away:  and  the  passions  and  tears  and 

231 


232     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

despairs  of  the  Cheltenham  days  had  retreated  into  a 
distance  too  dim  for  fathoming.  As  she  huddled  there 
in  the  midst  of  the  clean,  white  coldness,  her  heart  seemed 
frozen  into  an  insensibility  as  bleak  and  chill  as  the 
snow. 

Life  had  been  stirring  for  some  time  in  the  drowsy 
farm-house, —  a  curl  of  smoke  at  the  chimney,  a  hand  at 
the  window  letting  in  the  light, —  and  now,  of  a  sudden, 
it  burst  into  the  full  activity  of  day.  Figures  came  forth, 
and  moved  about  the  barnyard;  there  were  voices  of  ani- 
mals clamouring  eager  greetings,  and  the  sound  of  happy 
whistling.  Cicely  stirred  and  shivered.  Down  there 
they  were  all  alive,  cheery,  full  of  blithe  companionship: 
and  she  was  so  alone,  so  cold!  Unconsciously,  with- 
out being  aware  of  any  intention,  she  rose  and  moved 
down  the  snowy  slope,  to  be  a  little  nearer  that  human 
life  and  warmth. 

At  the  edge  of  the  barnyard  she  stopped,  jerked  sud- 
denly back  to  self-consciousness.  She  did  not  want  to 
meet  strange  men  and  women, —  she,  whose  spirit  was  so 
bruised  that  it  could  not  bear  its  own  glance !  For  a 
moment  she  thought  of  running  away;  and  yet  she  had 
not  the  courage  to  go  back  to  her  snowy  solitude.  She 
hung  undecided  on  the  outskirts  of  the  cheerful  activity, 
watching  the  greedy  chickens  pecking  at  their  morn- 
ing meal,  listening  to  the  mooing  of  cows  and  the  stamp 
of  horses'  feet  from  the  neighbouring  barns ;  and  while 
she  lingered,  the  back  door  of  the  farm-house  opened,  and 
a  woman  stood  upon  the  threshold,  smiling  out  at  the 
clean  white  morning. 

She  was  a  large,  spare  woman,  with  a  middle-aged  face 


WAIF'S  ASYLUM  233 

moulded  in  lines  of  tolerance  and  tenderness,  and  with 
capable,  work-hardened  hands.  Singing  cheerfully  to 
herself,  she  shook  out  a  gay  red  table-cloth;  and  as  she 
sang  and  shook  her  eyes  travelled  brightly  from  point 
to  point  of  the  scene  before  her  as  if  in  affectionate  greet- 
ing of  a  well-loved  friend.  In  a  moment  they  fell  upon 
Cicely  (standing  half-hidden  behind  a  wood-pile,  uncer- 
tain whether  to  run  or  stay),  and  she  dropped  her  hands 
with  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

"  My  soul  an'  body !  "  she  said.     "  Who're  you,  dear?  " 

Cicely  stopped  in  the  act  of  turning  for  flight,  stayed 
by  the  motherly  kindness  of  the  face  and  voice.  "I  — 
I  don't  want  to  trespass,"  she  faltered.  "  I  just  stopped 
to  —  to  rest  a  minute  —  I  was  tired  — " 

"  Poor  child !  "  said  the  woman,  crossing  the  yard  with 
the  table-cloth  gathered  up  on  her  arm.  "  Tired !  an' 
hungry  too,  I'll  bet  a  cookie.  Ain't  ye  hungry,  dear?  " 

"  I  don't  know, —  I  haven't  thought, — "  said  Cicely  un- 
certainly, "  it  doesn't  matter,  anyway.  I'm  just  go- 
ing." 

"  Goin' !  No,  that  you  ain't !  "  said  the  woman,  with 
kindly  peremptoriness.  "  Yo're  comin'  in  to  set  a  spell, 
that's  what.  Ye  look  as  white's  a  sody-cracker.  Come 
right  along  with  me, —  right  this  way."  She  took  Cicely's 
arm,  and  led  her  back  across  the  dooryard  and  into  the 
house. 

Cicely,  to  her  own  surprise,  went  submissively.  A  mo- 
ment ago  every  fibre  of  her  shrank  from  the  thought  of 
contact  with  her  fellow-men,  but  this  woman's  motherly 
kindness  drew  her  with  a  power  she  could  not  disobey. 
From  the  depths  of  the  big  rocking-chair  where  she  found 


234     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

h)erself  installed  she  looked  vaguely  about  the  cosy 
kitchen,  and  up  into  the  friendly  face.  "  Thank  you/' 
she  said  faintly.  "  It's  —  nice  to  be  here." 

The  woman  patted  her  shoulder  with  a  smile.  "  You 
jest  set  still,"  she  said,  "  an'  we'll  see  if  we  can't  make 
ye  feel  a  little  nicer  yet."  She  bustled  capably  about 
the  big  stove,  and  very  soon  the  odours  of  steaming  coffee, 
fresh  toast  and  crisp  bacon  began  to  float  seductively 
through  the  room.  The  woman  smiled  to  herself  as  she 
worked,  glancing  at  Cicely  from  time  to  time.  In  a  few 
moments,  with  a  beaming  face  of  hospitality,  she  spread 
a  napkin  on  the  corner  of  the  table,  laid  the  fragrant 
viands  upon  it,  and  invited  her  guest  to  "  Drore  up." 

Cicely  had  paid  no  attention  to  the  preparations,  be- 
yond reflecting  apathetically  that  a  kitchen  was  a  pleas- 
anter  place  than  she  had  supposed;  but  now,  face  to  face 
with  the  food  and  the  invitation,  she  started,  and  sniffed 
daintily.  "  Why,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  do  believe  I  want 
something  to  eat !  " 

The  woman  laughed  delightedly,  and,  seating  her  at 
the  table,  plied  her  with  the  good  food.  Cicely  ate  with 
growing  appetite;  it  was  many  hours  since  she  had 
thought  of  nourishment,  and  she  was  sorely  in  need  of 
it.  The  woman  watched  her  closely,  and,  seeing  the  faint 
colour  steal  back  to  the  white  cheeks  and  lips,  glowed  with 
pleasure.  "Eat,  dear,  eat!"  she  kept  urging.  "Good 
victuals  never  harmed  anybody,  saint  nor  sinner.  Come, 
one  more  drop  o'  coffee !  " 

"  No,  no,  nothing  more !  "  said  Cicely  at  last,  pushing 
back  her  chair.  "  Why,  I  haven't  eaten  so  much  since  — 
since  I  grew  up,  I  believe." 


WAIF'S  ASYLUM  235 

"  That  ain't  so  very  long  ago,  neither ! "  said  the 
woman,  smiling  at  her  as  she  gathered  up  the  dishes. 
"  Now,  what'd  ye  say  to  a  mite  o'  rest?  There's  a  sofy 
in  the  settin'-room  where  ye  can  cuddle  down  snug's  a 
mouse.  Wun't  ye  try  it?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  "  exclaimed  Cicely.  "  I  must  be  going ! 
I've  stayed  too  long  now."  She  started  up,  looking  about 
her  uneasily. 

"  Now,  jest  wait  a  minute,"  said  the  woman,  laying  a 
detaining  hand  on  her  arm.  "  There  ain't  any  cars  out 
o'  town  till  the  even  hour.  Which  way  ye  goin'  ?  " 

"  To  —  to  — "  stammered  Cicely,  wholly  at  a  loss, — 
for  she  had  not  the  least  idea  where  she  was,  having 
neither  asked  a  question  nor  made  a  plan  in  her  head- 
long flight, — "  why,  to  —  New  York." 

"  N'York !  "  said  the  woman.  "  N'York  by  the  way 
o'  t his  neighbourhood !  Why,  where'd  ye  come  from  ?  " 

"  From  —  Cheltenham,"  faltered  Cicely. 

"  Good  land  alive !  "  exclaimed  the  woman.  "  Why, 
yo're  half  as  far  again  from  N'York  as  you  was  in 
Cheltenham !  Did  ye  take  the  wrong  car,  dear  ?  " 

"I  —  I  suppose  so,"  said  Cicely.  "  I  didn't  exactly 
know  —  where  I  was  going." 

The  woman  looked  at  her  keenly.  "  Folks  expectin' 
ye  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No  —  that  is,  yes  —  I  —  I  mean  I  haven't  quite  de- 
cided —  who  I'm  going  to  see,"  said  Cicely,  floundering 
more  and  more. 

"  An'  what  about  the  fam'ly  ?  "  pursued  the  other, 
gently  inexorable.  "  Wun't  mother  be  lookin'  for  ye  ? 
Wun't  they  be  anxious  to  home?  " 


236     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Cicely's  feeble  defences  broke  down.  These  moments 
of  comfort  and  kindness  had  melted  away  the  numb  chill 
from  her  heart,  and,  with  a  sudden  great  rush  of  mis- 
ery, she  realised  her  desolation.  "  Oh !  "  she  cried,  a  sob 
swelling  in  her  throat,  "  oh,  nobody  cares !  I  haven't  any 
mother,  nor  —  nor  any  home.  Nobody  expects  me,  no- 
body wants  to  see  me.  I'm  all,  all  alone!  " 

The  woman  nodded.     "  There,  there,  dear !  "  she  said, 
patting  Cicely's  hand.     "  I  knowed  ye'd  run  away  the 
minute  I  see  ye, —  young  an'  pretty  as  you  be,  wanderin' 
round  in  the  snow  in  them  clo'es.     How  was  it,  dearie  — 
stepmother?  " 

"  No,"  said  Cicely,  her  breath  catching.  "  Worse  than 
that.  Much,  much  worse.  I  —  I  can't  tell  about  it." 

"Ye  couldn't  think  o'  goin'  back?"  suggested  the 
woman  gently. 

"  Oh,  no,  no!  "  cried  Cicely,  starting  up  with  dilated 
eyes.  "  I  must  go  away  —  I  can  never  go  back.  Good- 
bye —  and  thank  you  —  and  let  me  go,  please !  "  She 
was  on  her  feet,  trying  to  loosen  the  kind  hand,  and 
straining  towards  the  door. 

The  woman,  rising  too,  took  her  firmly  by  both  shoul- 
ders, and  pushed  her  back  into  the  chair.  "  You  set 
there,"  she  said.  "  Now,  take  off  yore  hat  an'  coat,  an' 
give  'em  to  me.  Will  ye  lay  down  in  the  settin'-room, 
or  would  ye  ruther  go  up  to  yer  own  room  an'  rest?  " 

"But  —  but — "  faltered  Cicely,  "I'm  going — I'm 
going  away  — " 

"  Yo're  goin'  to  stay  right  here,  that's  what  yo're 
goin'  to  do,"  said  the  woman,  with  decision.  "  D'ye 
think  I'll  let  ye  go  ramblin'  off  over  the  face  o'  the  earth 


WAIF'S  ASYLUM  237 

alone,  a  child  like  you?  You  stay  with  me  a  spell,  dear, 
an'  keep  me  comp'ny.  I  hed  a  daughter  somethin'  like 
you  once,"  she  added  softly,  "  but  I  couldn't  keep  her." 

The  loving-kindness  of  the  tone  brought  the  tears 
crowding  to  Cicely's  eyes.  She  laid  her  head  against  the 
high  back  of  the  chair,  and  cried  softly  and  heart-brok- 
enly. "  Oh,  what  shall  I  do !  "  she  sobbed.  "  I've  no- 
where to  go  —  nobody  to  turn  to  — " 

"  There,  there,  dearie,"  said  the  woman,  smoothing 
her  hair  tenderly,  "  ye've  got  me.  I'll  take  care  o'  ye." 

"  If  I  could  stay  —  just  a  little,  little  while  — "  sobbed 
Cicely,  "  just  until  I  get  brave  —  and  —  and  don't  need 
to  be  loved — " 

The  woman's  eyes  filled.  "  You  stay  with  me,  dear," 
she  said,  "  an'  I'll  —  I'll  love  ye." 

Cicely  caught  her  hand,  with  a  great  quivering  sigh. 
"  I'll  stay, — "  she  said,  "  oh,  if  you'll  love  me !  "  And, 
holding  the  kind  hand  tight,  she  sobbed  herself  away 
into  exhausted  sleep. 

The  woman  stood  by  her,  untiring  and  patient,  strok- 
ing the  soft  hair.  "  Poor  lamb !  "  she  said  under  her 
breath.  "  Poor  little  lost  lamb !  " 


So  it  came  about  that  Cicely,  the  unthoughtful  and  im- 
provident, was  thought  for  and  provided  for  as  always. 
That  she  should  find  a  home  so  soon  was  in  the  nature  of 
a  fortunate  and  peculiarly  apposite  miracle,  for  she  had 
come  away  with  no  store  but  the  little  money  that 
chanced  to  be  in  her  purse  and  the  few  garments  in 
her  hand-bag,  and,  being  totally  unfit  for  self-help  of 


238     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

any  kind,  must  either  have  greatly  suffered  or  promptly 
starved.  However,  she  gave,  as  usual,  little  thought  to 
her  good  fortune.  These  bare  necessities  of  food,  shelter 
and  kindness  had  been  hers  too  continually,  too  inevitably, 
to  be  matters  for  wonder  or  thankfulness;  she  accepted 
them  without  question,  and  repaid  them  only  by  the  habit- 
ual careless  sweetness  of  her  manner. 

For  the  rest,  her  trouble  absorbed  her  entirely.  She 
was  too  bruised  by  pain  to  be  aware  of  anything  but  her 
own  sick,  suffering  spirit. 

Her  sudden  advent  in  this  place,  like  a  meteor  dropped 
from  the  sky,  was  accepted  with  surprisingly  little  stir. 
Probably  the  farmer's  wife,  seeing  her  visitor's  terrified 
shrinking  from  questions,  had  warned  her  little  world  that 
the  visit  must  be  taken  as  a  matter  of  course ;  at  all  events, 
no  one  exclaimed  over  Cicely,  and  every  one  seemed 
ready  to  give  her  the  peace  and  immunity  she  craved. 
The  woman  herself,  though  her  glances  hung  with  tender 
yearning  on  the  bright  head  and  pale  face,  had  adopted 
a  cheerful  matter-of-fact  demeanour  that  calmed  Cicely 
immeasurably,  even  while  she  hardly  perceived  it;  the 
farmer  treated  her  with  good-natured,  half-quizzical  re- 
spect; and  the  farm-hands,  who  slept  away  from  the 
house  and  only  appeared  briefly  at  meals,  were  cowed 
by  her  presence  into  dumb  voracity.  She  had  given  the 
name  of  her  girlhood,  Cicely  Cameron;  the, farmer's  wife 
promptly  adopted  a  motherly  "  Cicely,"  the  farmer  called 
her  "  Miss,"  and  the  men  called  her  nothing  at  all,  ex- 
cept an  occasional  mumbled  "  Pass  the  butter,  please." 
So  Mrs.  Roger  Ford  slipped  quietly  out  of  sight,  and 
Cicely  was  born  again  into  life  in  its  simplest  form. 


XI 

THE    UNKNOWN    LAND 

IF  Cicely  had  been  minded  for  it,  there  was  matter  of 
absorbing  interest  in  her  new  surroundings.  The  refuge 
upon  which  she  had  stumbled  was  a  dairy-farm  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  village  of  Stowe;  a  smoothly  rolling  coun- 
try, green  and  luxuriant  in  summer,  and  now,  at  the  end 
of  winter,  already  black  with  the  promise  of  coming 
fertility.  Her  hosts,  John  and  Martha  Gibson,  were  the 
finest  fruit  of  that  vintage  that  grows  sanely  and  whole- 
somely near  the  soil,  under  the  open  sky, —  he,  shrewd, 
humorous  and  big-hearted;  she  all  capability  and  all 
kindness.  Their  neighbours  were,  in  differing  degrees, 
like  themselves:  some  were  harsher,  some  less  vigorously 
full  of  character,  many  sharper  of  tongue  and  duller  of 
feeling;  but  all  were  sturdy  and  genuine,  and  all  full- 
flavoured  with  the  rich  sincerity  that  is  born  of  Mother 
Earth. 

Life  at  the  farm  was  a  constant  bustle  of  activity,  end- 
ing only  with  the  ending  of  the  day,  and  resumed  again 
promptly  at  sunrise.  As  soon  as  clothes  were  on  and 
fires  glowing,  John  Gibson  and  the  "  hands  "  went  to  the 
barns  to  feed  the  clamouring  stock,  and  Martha  made 
ready  the  substantial  dinner  that  was  served  three  times 
a  day  under  different  names.  Presently  the  men  returned 

239 


240    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

from  the  long  cow-barn  with  the  warm  and  frothing  pail- 
f  uls  of  milk :  then  they  all  gathered  in  the  dairy,  where,  on 
a  zinc-covered  table  with  a  trench  of  running  water  down 
its  middle,  the  bottles  stood  winking  in  the  light;  the  men 
poured  the  swashing  milk  into  a  metal  trough  suspended 
above  the  trench,  and  it  ran  in  a  foaming  white  stream  into 
the  bottles  that  John  pushed  in  quick  succession  under  the 
outlet ;  and  Martha  took  her  stand  at  the  end  of  the  table, 
and  fitted  in  the  pasteboard  stoppers  with  a  dexterity 
born  of  long  practice.  Then  came  the  dinner-breakfast, 
set  upon  the  table  while  the  men  performed  rapid  ablu- 
tions in  the  little  anteroom  known  as  "  the  summer 
kitchin  " :  and  when  that  was  finished,  one  of  the  men 
drove  off  to  town  with  the  load  of  full  white  bottles, 
John  and  the  other  man  departed  on  various  concerns  of 
flock  and  field,  and  Martha  busied  herself  with  the  mound 
of  breakfast  dishes.  Then,  while  the  men  worked  out-of- 
doors,  there  was  the  kitchen  to  scrub,  the  bedrooms  to  set 
in  order,  and  baking,  sweeping  or  washing  to  do;  and 
then  there  was  food  to  prepare  again  before  the  hungry 
men  returned,  and  another  mound  of  dishes  to  wash. 
Even  when,  late  in  the  day,  the  men  rested  a  while  and 
communed  with  comfortable  pipes,  Martha  sat  by  a  pile 
of  mending  and  stitched  patiently  and  steadily.  And 
presently  came  the  evening  milking  and  feeding  and 
bottle-washing,  and  supper  to  get,  and  more  dishes. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  industry  Cicely  sat  inert  and 
inactive,  looking  on  with  apathetic  eyes.  She  had  no 
imagination  left,  and  the  butterfly  curiosity  which  had 
made  her  hover  in  eager  interest  over  the  strange  new 
life  of  Cheltenham  had  been  broken  on  the  wheel  of 


THE  UNKNOWN  LAND        241 

immanent  suffering.  While  she  rocked  in  her  deep  chair 
by  the  window,  and  listlessly  watched  the  brisk,  unceas- 
ing movements  of  Mrs.  Gibson,  her  mind  never  stirred 
out  of  its  own  self-bounded  limits.  She  answered  when 
she  was  directly  addressed,  and  ate  when  she  was  suffi- 
ciently coaxed;  and  all  the  rest  of  the  time  she  sat  with- 
drawn into  a  wilderness  of  desolation  and  despair,  be- 
yond the  reach  of  human  comfort.  The  end  of  the  world 
had  come,  her  life  was  ended ;  what  care  had  she  for 
busy  farmers  and  busy  wives  and  the  interminable  fussy 
emptiness  of  other  people's  interests? 

Yet,  with  all  her  self-absorption,  the  loving  companion- 
ship of  the  farmer's  wife  entered  little  by  little  into  her 
consciousness,  and  soothed  her  unawares.  She  grew  ac- 
customed to  the  cheerful  presence,  and  drew  healing  from 
the  unfailing  tenderness,  of  her  protector;  and  in  the 
long  hours  of  speechless  companionship  (for  the  older 
woman  had  the  gift,  rare  in  her  sex,  of  rich  and  sym- 
pathetic silence),  her  bruised  spirit  stirred  and  stretched 
itself.  She  turned  to  Mrs.  Gibson  as  a  child  turns  to 
an  over-unselfish  mother  who  never  refuses  its  demands; 
and  the  unquestioning  selfishness  that  marked  her  still 
for  a  child  reawakened  in  her. 

"  Don't  go  upstairs,  Mrs.  Gibson,"  she  said  one  day, 
as  that  busy  woman,  broom  in  hand,  turned  from  the 
newly-scrubbed  kitchen  to  the  stairway. 

"  I've  got  to,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson.  "  This  is  the 
day  for  sweepin'  the  bedrooms." 

"  But  I  don't  want  you  to !  "  said  Cicely.  "  I  want 
you  to  stay  here  with  me." 

Mrs.  Gibson  hesitated,  trying  to  be  judiciously  firm; 


242     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

but  Cicely's  face  was  white  and  piteous,  and  the  tempta- 
tion to  spoil  her  was  too  strong.  "  Well,"  she  said,  "  I 
s'pose  I  could  mend  now,  an'  sweep  while  yo're  layin' 
down  this  afternoon."  She  struggled  a  moment  with  her 
housewifely  sense  of  fitness,  and  then  laid  aside  her 
broom  and  got  her  work-basket. 

Cicely  watched  listlessly,  her  white  hands  folded  in 
her  lap.  "  You  work  all  the  time,  Mrs.  Gibson,"  she 
remarked. 

"  Why,  o'  course !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  threading  her 
needle.  "  How'd  the  work  get  done,  if  I  didn't?  " 

"  But  don't  you  get  tired?  '  asked  Cicely,  vaguely  in- 
terested. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  get  tired,"  said  the  woman,  "  but  land, 
I'd  get  a  sight  tireder  if  I  didn't  work.  What'd  I  do 
with  myself  then?  " 

"  Oh,  make  calls, —  play  cards, — "  said  Cicely,  "  all 
the  things  that  people  do  who  don't  work." 

"  My  soul,  I  sh'd  die  in  my  tracks !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson 
emphatically.  "  Workin's  half  my  life, —  half  the  happi- 
ness of  it,  I  mean." 

"What  is  the  other  half?  "  asked  Cicely,  a  dim  curi- 
osity awakening  in  her. 

"  Lovin',"  answered  the  woman,  her  matter-of-fact 
voice  softening.  "  Workin'  an'  lovin'.  The  way  I  look 
at  it,  that's  happiness.  Work  with  the  folks  ye  love,  if 
ye  can;  love  the  folks  ye  work  for,  if  it  falls  out  that 
way ;  but  love  somebody,  an'  work  at  somethin', —  that's 
the  best  rule  I  know  to  reg'late  life  by.  You  think  about 
it  a  little  while,  dear,  an'  see  if  it  ain't  sense." 

"Working  and  loving!"  repeated  Cicely.     "What  a 


THE  UNKNOWN  LAND        243 

queer  combination !  "  She  tried  to  comprehend  it  for  a 
moment,  turning  it  over  dully  in  her  aching  mind.  But 
the  idea  of  work  was  so  foreign  to  her  horizon  that  she 
could  find  no  place  for  it;  and  upon  love,  now  tjhat  she 
was  bereft  of  the  only  love  she  wanted,  she  could  not 
bear  to  think.  She  shivered,  and,  turning  away  from 
the  subject,  stared  drearily  out  of  the  window  into  the 
bleak  winter-bound  world. 

The  farmer's  wife  glanced  at  her  with  keen  and  loving 
eyes,  and  saw  the  darkness  of  self-centred  brooding  fall 
again  over  the  momentarily  lighted  face.  She  sighed 
quietly.  "  She  wun't  try  to  think  about  it,"  she  remarked 
to  herself.  "  Well,  it's  no  use  talkin'  about  plantin'  in  a 
field  that  ain't  ben  ploughed.  But  who's  goin'  to  do 
the  ploughin'?  " 


"  Mother,"  said  the  farmer  one  morning,  coming  into 
the  kitchen  with  a  basket  of  apples,  "  ther's  jest  these 
few  Baldwins  left,  an'  they  look  to  me  as  if  they  wa'n't 
long  for  this  world.  What'd  ye  say  to  convertin'  'em 
into  pies  ?  " 

"I'd  say  they  couldn't  come  to  a  better  end!"  said 
Mrs.  Gibson  cheerfully.  "  You  sh'll  hev  some  for  din- 
ner this  ,very  day." 

"  Now  if  that  ain't  the  kind  of  a  wife  to  hev,  I'd  like 
to  know  what  is !  "  said  the  farmer  admiringly.  "  You 
pattern  after  her,  Miss,  an'  you  wun't  make  any  mis- 
take." 

Cicely  looked  after  him,  as  he  tramped  off  to  the  barn, 
with  a  faint  stirring  of  amusement.  What  an  idea,  that 


244     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

she  could  ever  be  the  same  kind  of  wife  as  this  hard- 
labouring  farmer-woman,  with  the  work-worn  hands ! 
The  man  had  no  sense  of  fitness.  She  glanced  from  her 
own  dainty,  useless  person  to  the  capable  figure  of  the 
farmer's  wife,  in  unconscious  comparison:  and  suddenly, 
observing  the  bright  content  on  the  older  woman's  face, 
she  felt  a  pang  of  envy.  It  must  be  pleasant  to  be  so 
cheerful. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  straightening  her  back  from 
the  dishpan  to  bend  it  again  over  the  basket  of  apples, 
"  here's  one  more  chore.  Land,  this  is  goin'  to  be  a 
busy  day !  " 

"  How  can  you  go  to  work  and  make  those  pies,  Mrs. 
Gibson,  when  you  have  so  much  else  to  do?  "  asked 
Cicely,  moved  by  a  vaguely  jealous  discontent. 

"  Oh,  I  c'n  manage  somehow,"  said  the  other  cheerily. 
"  O'  course  I  may  hev  to  hustle  a  little,  but  it's  wuth  it. 
John  does  like  pies  so !  " 

Cicely  turned  her  face  away  sharply.  What  right  had 
these  commonplace  farmer-people  to  love,  when  there  was 
no  love  in  her  own  infinitely  more  precious  life?  "  You'll 
get  tired  out,"  she  said. 

"  Oh  well,  ther's  some  kinds  o'  tiredness  ye'd  ruther 
hev  than  lack,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  half  to  herself. 

Cicely  was  silent,  brooding  miserably.  It  seemed  there 
was  happiness  in  the  world  for  everybody  but  herself: 
what  colossal  iniquity ! 

"  An'  it  ain't  only  that,"  said  the  farmer's  wife  sud- 
denly, thinking  aloud;  "  when  I'm  doin'  things  for  John, 
I  get  a  kind  of  a  feelin'  that  ye  might  call  mutualness,  an' 
it's  a  sight  o'  satisfaction.  I'm  a-workin'  for  him  in  the 


THE  UNKNOWN  LAND        245 

house,  an'  he's  a-workin'  for  me  out-doors,  an'  we're 
both  a-workin'  together  for  the  children  an'  the  farm; 
an'  whatever  it  is,  we  both  enjoy  it,  becuz  we're  doin'  it 
for  each  other.  It's  a  kind  of  a  partnership,  ye  see. 
Yes,  that's  what  marriage  is, —  workin'  together  in  part- 
nership." 

Cicely  stared  at  her  blankly  for  a  minute.     "  You  do 
have  the  strangest  ideas,  Mrs.  Gibson !  "  she  said. 


XII 

A  CLUE  FOR  A  BLINDFOLD  ARIADNE 

"  LOOK-YE  here,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  "  see  if  I  ain't 
got  somethin'  pretty  to  show  ye !  " 

Cicely,  sitting  in  her  usual  place  by  the  window,  turned 
listlessly.  "What  is  it?"  she  asked. 

"  Somethin'  for  you,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  her  face  beam- 
ing with  pleasure  over  the  big  bundle  in  her  arms. 
"  Guess  what." 

"  I  can't  guess,"  said  Cicely  apathetically.  "  Tell 
me." 

"  It's  clo'es !  "  announced  Mrs.  Gibson.  "  You  need 
some  every-day  ones  dreadful  bad, —  wearin'  them  two 
beautiful  dresses  day  in  an'  day  out!  —  an'  I'm  a-goin' 
to  make  ye  some.  I've  planned  my  work  so's  I  c'n  sew 
all  mornin'.  An'  I've  got  the  prettiest  stuff  to  sew  on ! 
—  jest  look  at  this."  She  flung  back  the  paper  from  her 
package,  and  delightedly  displayed  its  contents  of  checked 
gingham  and  striped  percale. 

"  Imagine  me,"  thought  Cicely,  "  dressed  in  that  rat- 
tling stuff,  like  a  peasant  or  a  servant !  "  But  her  pretty 
manner  was  too  instinctive  to  forsake  her,  and  she 
thanked  Mrs.  Gibson  graciously.  That  kind  soul,  glow- 
ing with  satisfaction,  busily  cleared  the  table  and  laid 
out  pattern  and  scissors  and  pins;  and  Cicely  turned 
and  stared  out  of  the  window  again. 

246 


A  CLUE  247 

Cicely  in  these  days  was  like  a  person  emerging  from 
anaesthesia.  At  first  she  had  been  too  stunned  and  suffo- 
cated for  conscious  sensation;  then  through  the  dull 
horror  of  pervading  misery  there  had  pierced  sharp 
stabs  of  pain;  and  then,  with  complete  re-awakening, 
suddenly  she  was  plunged  in  such  an  agony  that  her  spirit 
seemed  to  scream  aloud  within  her.  How  she  loved 
Roger, —  how  she  needed  him, —  she  had  never  realised 
until  now  that  she  was  cut  off  from  him;  it  was  as  if 
some  one  had  hewed  the  heart  out  of  her  breast,  and 
left  the  bleeding  cavity  open.  Yet  with  full  conscious- 
ness came  pride:  he  did  not  love  her;  then  she  did  not 
love  him:  he  had  wrecked  her  life;  should  she  spend 
herself  in  suffering  for  him?  For  long  hours  at  a  time 
she  seared  her  soul  with  bitter  memories;  and  when  her 
need  of  him  surged  over  her  in  a  great  whelming  flood, 
she  flung  up  hard  defences  of  rancour  and  implacability. 
She  was  a  tortured  battle-ground,  where  emotions  warred 
and  struggled  all  day  long. 

"  Which'll  I  begin  on,  dear,  the  pink  or  the  blue?" 
asked  Mrs.  Gibson. 

"  I  don't  care,"  answered  Cicely.  "  Yon  choose."  To 
herself  she  was  saying,  "  I  don't  want  Roger !  I  don't 
want  him !  I  won't  think  of  him;  I  hate  him !  " 

"  Well,  blue's  the  prettiest,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson  reflec- 
tively, "  an'  I  want  ye  sh'd  hev  the  prettiest  there  is." 
She  spread  out  the  stiff  fabric,  with  its  prim  checker- 
board of  blue  and  white,  and  laid  the  rustling  pattern  on. 
"  How  d'ye  like  yer  ginghams  made,  shirtwaist  V  skirt, 
or  all  one  piece  'n'  buttoned  down  the  back  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Cicely;  "  I  never  had  any.     (Oh, 


248     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

I  do  hate  him!  I  do!  That's  the  only  reason  I  think 
of  him)." 

"  Never  hed  any!  "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Gibson.  "  Never 
—  hed  any  —  ginghams  !  My  land  alive  !  But  there,  I 
said  when  I  found  ye'd  never  seen  a  Dover  egg-beater 
that  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  at  anythin'.  An'  I  wun't. 
Only  —  never  hed  any  —  ginghams!  "  She  paused  to 
regain  control  of  her  outraged  intelligence,  and  then 
asked  helplessly,  "  What  in  the  world  did  ye  wear, 
mornin's  ?  " 

"  Oh,  just  clothes, — "  said  Cicely  listlessly,  "  ordinary 
clothes,  like  this."  She  touched  her  frock  of  rough- 
woven  crimson  silk;  and  suddenly  there  came  to  her  with 
a  pang  the  memory  of  the  day  when,  wearing  it,  she  had 
frolicked  herself  into  a  crimson  glow  in  some  childish 
romp  with  Roger,  and  he  had  said  that  she  looked  like  a 
Jacqueminot  rose  in  a  gale.  "  Why  do  I  think  of  such 
things  ?  "  she  asked  herself  angrily.  "  Why  should  I 
care  what  Roger  said?  " 

"  Good  land !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson.  She  looked  at  Cicely 
in  a  very  despair  of  bewilderment.  "  You  must  'a'  lived 
a  queer  life,"  she  said. 

"  I  did,"  said  Cicely;  "  but  I've  done  with  it." 

The  bitterness  of  her  tone  made  the  older  woman 
straighten  up  and  look  at  her  more  closely.  Sitting  there 
against  the  window,  in  the  unconscious  pathos  of  her 
youth,  her  beauty,  and  her  unhappiness,  Cicely  was  a 
poignantly  appealing  picture;  and  Mrs.  Gibson's  heart 
yearned  over  her  foundling.  With  the  practical  instinct 
of  a  busy  woman  to  manifest  emotion  in  deeds,  she  looked 
about  for  some  means  of  comfort;  and,  turning  naturally 


A  CLUE  249 

to  her  own  panacea  of  work,  took  up  some  of  the  material 
on  the  table  to  offer  it  to  Cicely;  but  just  then  Cicely, 
turning  away  in  her  chair  with  a  little  shivering  sigh, 
folded  her  hands  and  laid  her  cheek  upon  them  with  one 
of  those  irresistible  gestures  of  helplessness  that  joined 
all  her  world  in  a  conspiracy  to  keep  her  helpless.  "  No, 
she's  nothin'  but  a  baby,"  decided  Mrs.  Gibson.  "  Let 
her  rest."  And  she  bent  over  her  work  again. 

Presently  the  door  opened,  without  warning, —  after 
the  friendly  fashion  of  the  community, —  and  one  of  the 
neighbour  women  walked  in.  Her  name  was  Susan 
Briggs,  and  she  lived  alone  in  self-sufficing  spinsterhood 
in  a  little  white  house  on  the  road  to  Stowe.  In  person 
she  was  meagre  and  brisk,  with  decided  features,  and 
sharp  black  eyes  that  were  uncomfortably  penetrating, 
though  not  devoid  of  a  certain  severe  kindness:  in  char- 
acter she  was  decisive,  intolerant,  and  yet  beneficent  in 
her  own  peremptory  way,  like  some  stringent  medicine. 
Cicely  had  been  more  aware  of  her  than  of  any  of  the 
people  who  dimly  came  and  went  before  her  indifferent 
eyes, —  not  because  she  cared  more  for  Miss  Briggs  than 
for  the  others,  but  because  that  energetic  lady's  person- 
ality was  too  insistent  to  be  ignored  even  by  blindness. 

"  Good  mornin',  folks !  "  said  Miss  Briggs,  shutting  the 
door  behind  her  with  a  firm  impact.  "  I  jest  run  in  to 
borrow  a  half  a  cup  o'  vinegar,  if  ye  can  spare  it.  What 
you  up  to,  Marthy,  on  upstairs-sweepin'-day  ?  My  stars ! 
Baby  blue  gingham,  at  yore  time  o'  life !  " 

"  This  ain't  for  me !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  laughing. 
"  Set  down,  Susan.  I'm  a-cuttin'  out  some  dresses  for 
Cicely." 


250    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Cuttin'  out  dresses  for  Cicely ! "  repeated  Miss 
Briggs,  seating  herself  by  the  table.  "  For  the  land's 
sake!  Why  don't  Cicely  cut  'em  out  for  herself?  " 

Cicely  came  reluctantly  out  of  her  abstraction ;  no  con- 
siderations but  actual  ones  could  exist  in  that  positive 
presence.  "  I  can't,"  she  explained.  "  I  don't  know 
how." 

"  Goody  Gorham!  "  exclaimed  Susan  Briggs.  "  Don't 
know  how  to  cut  out  a  dress !  Why,  any  fool  can  f oiler 
a  paper  pattern.  Don't  tell  me  ye  ain't  got  sense  enough 
for  that!  " 

"  Why  should  she  know  how  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Gibson, 
coming  quickly  to  the  defence  of  her  darling.  "  She's 
never  hed  occasion." 

"  Time  she  learnt,  then,"  said  the  inexorable  Susan. 
"  Here,  Cicely,  you  turn  round  this  way,  an'  take  these 
breadths  an'  baste  'em  together.  An'  Marthy,  don't  you 
cut  any  more.  Cicely  c'n  cut  the  next  dress  when  she 
gits  this  one  done."  She  thrust  the  stiff  folds  into  Cice- 
ly's hands,  and  followed  them  with  a  thimble  and  a 
needle  threaded  at  lightning  speed. 

Cicely  gazed  at  these  implements  helplessly.  "  What 
am  I  to  do  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  don't  know  how  to  sew." 

"  Ye  don't! "  ejaculated  Susan,  staring  at  her. 
"  Well,  if  you  ain't  the  beatin'est!  Don't  know  how  to 
sew  !  Good  lack  !  Where  was  you  brought  up  ?  " 

"  Now,  now,"  interposed  Mrs.  Gibson  soothingly, 
"  don't  you  worry  her,  Susan.  It  don't  matter  a  mite  if 
she  don't  know  how  to  sew;  she's  got  time  enough  to 
learn.  I  didn't  calc'late  she  sh'd  do  anythin'  on  these 
dresses,  anyway.  I've  planned  to  hev  the  time."  She 


A  CLUE  251 

took  the  sewing  materials  from  Cicely's  lax  hands,  giving 
her  a  reassuring  little  pat  on  the  shoulder. 

Cicely  thanked  her  with  a  faint,  charming  smile. 
"  You  see,  Miss  Briggs,"  she  said,  with  her  pretty  air  of 
making  a  confidence,  "  it's  really  no  use  for  me  to  try 
this  sort  of  thing.  I've  never  been  taught.  I'm  a  dread- 
fully useless  creature." 

"  Yes,  so  I  see,"  remarked  Miss  Briggs  grimly. 
"  Here,  you  give  me  them  breadths,  Marthy.  I  can't 
stay  a  minute;  but  /  ain't  one  to  set  an'  fold  my  hands 
with  other  folks  slavin'  right  before  my  eyes." 

Cicely  flushed.  For  one  startling  moment  it  came  into 
her  mind  that  perhaps  there  might  be  some  other  purpose 
in  life,  even  for  her,  than  that  of  being  an  ornament;  and 
a  sharp  misgiving  smote  her.  But  with  the  next  breath 
she  remembered  how  Roger  had  said  that  hands  like  hers 
were  flowers,  not  meant  to  be  roughened  by  toil,  and  the 
misgiving  passed  in  an  impulse  of  relief.  With  delicate 
tact  she  withdrew  her  eyes  from  Miss  Briggs'  face,  that 
that  severe  spinster  might  not  be  distressed  by  the  dis- 
pleasure in  them;  and,  looking  at  the  pretty  idle  hands, 
fell  again  into  miserable  brooding. 

Miss  Briggs  whisked  her  needle,  rustled  her  goods, 
and  bit  her  thread  in  indignant  silence,  for  some  mo- 
ments; but  presently  her  energy  could  no  longer  be  re- 
strained from  more  vigorous  expression,  and  she  turned 
upon  her  hostess  a  rapid  volley  of  conversation  which 
pointedly  excluded  Cicely. 

"  Well,  Marthy,  I  ain't  seen  ye  for  a  week ! "  she 
said.  "  Where  was  ye  sewin'-circle  day?  an'  why  didn't 
ye  come  to  the  club,  the  day  it  met  to  Mis'  Dix's  ?  " 


252    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  I  stayed  home,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson.     "  I  was  busy." 

"  Land  knows,  yo're  always  busy,"  said  Susan,  "  but 
ye  can  usually  manage  to  drop  things  an'  git  away  now  an' 
then,  like  a  sensible  Christian  woman.  What  kep'  ye?  " 

"  I  didn't  get  to  go,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson  mildly.  "  Was 
ther'  many  to  Mis'  Dix's  ?  " 

"  Yo're  keepin'  somethin'  back,"  said  Susan,  with  sud- 
den suspicion.  "  I  never  knowed  ye  to  miss  a  club- 
meetin'  in  years.  Now  tell  me;  was  ye  sick?  " 

"  No,  I  jest  didn't  get  to  go,"  repeated  Mrs.  Gibson. 
"  What  did  they  read  about  ?  " 

"  Marthy  Gibson ! "  exclaimed  the  visitor  sharply, 
"  hev  you  ben  stayin'  home  on  account  o'  this  — " 

"  'Sh !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson  quickly.  "  I  stayed  becuz  I 
wanted  to.  What  did  they  — " 

"My  land  o'  Goshen!"  ejaculated  Miss  Briggs. 
"  You,  Marthy  Gibson !  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  ain't 
got  any  more  sense  than  to  give  up  yore  pleasure-after- 
noons, an'  yore  sweepin'-mornin's,  an'  all  yore  spare 
strength,  to  this  lazy  —  simple  —  good-f or-nothin' — 

"  Now,  Susan,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson  firmly,  "  don't  you 
say  another  word.  I'm  askin'  you  about  that  club-meetin', 
an'  if  yo're  my  friend  that's  what  you'll  talk  to  me 
about." 

Susan  looked  rebellious,  but  Mrs.  Gibson's  tone  was  de- 
cisive ;  and  she  yielded  with  a  sniff.  "  Well,  it  was  a 
good  meetin',"  she  said.  "  Everybody  asked  about  you, 
an'  said  they  hedn't  scarcely  seen  ye  these  last  six  weeks ; 
they  wondered  what  under  the  sun  kep'  ye  home  so 
tight.  No,  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  say  anythin', —  ye  needn't 
worry.  Ellen  Richards  read  a  paper  on  '  Modern  Edu- 


A  CLUE  253 

cation  ' ;  'twas  real  good, —  not  so  wishy-washy  as  most 
o'  her  stuff." 

"  I  wish't  I'd  'a'  heard  it,"  said  Martha  Gibson  wist- 
fully. "  I  love  to  hear  'bout  schools  an'  colleges  an' 
sech." 

"  No  reason  why  ye  shouldn't  'a'  heard  it,  but  yer  own 
foolishness!"  said  Susan  pointedly.  "How's  Johnny? 
Hed  a  letter  lately  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  one  last  week,  an'  one  fine  long  one  yestiddy," 
said  Martha,  her  face  brightening  beautifully.  "  Mebbe 
I  wasn't  glad  to  get  'em !  " 

"  Read  'em  to  me,"  commanded  Susan.  "  You  ain't 
read  me  one  in  a  dog's  age." 

Mrs.  Gibson  shook  her  head,  glancing  at  Cicely. 
"  Xot  now,"  she  said.  "  Some  other  time." 

The  visitor  put  down  her  work,  and  confronted  her 
hostess  with  a  piercing  glance.  "  Now,  Marthy  Gib- 
son !  "  she  said.  "  I  sh'd  like  to  know  why  them  letters 
can't  be  read  now  jest  as  well's  any  other  time!  What 
ails  ye?  " 

"  Well,  fact  is,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  in  a  lowered  voice, 
"  I  don't  speak  much  'bout  Cheltenham  these  days.  I 
never  say  the  name  before  her." 

"Before  who?  Cicely?"  demanded  Susan.  "Why 
not?  She  don't  think  she's  got  the  exclusive  rights  to 
the  name  o'  Cheltenham,  does  she?  " 

Cicely  started  at  the  sound  of  her  name,  and  came 
back  again  to  the  actual  world.  They  were  talking  about 
her !  —  and  now  an  uneasy  instinct  warned  her  that  they 
had  been  doing  so  before  she  became  aware  of  it.  She 
sat  up  straight,  instantly  on  the  defensive. 


254    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  No,  no,"  murmured  Mrs.  Gibson  hastily.  "  But  she 
don't  like  to  hear  'bout  it;  it  makes  her  feel  bad.  I  don't 
even  mention  Johnny,  an'  I  don't  let  John  neither." 

"My  goody  gracious!"  ejaculated  Susan.  "Who  is 
this  girl,  anyway, —  the  queen  o'  Sheby  ?  —  that  she  sh'd 
come  upsettin'  yore  house  an'  yore  daily  life,  an'  takin' 
all  the  pleasure  out  o'  yore  conversation?  For  the  land's 
sake !  if  you  an'  John  ain't  a  pair  o'  softies !  I  s'pose 
next  thing  you'll  be  fillin'  up  the  house  with  rose-leaves, 
for  fear  she  sh'd  hev  to  step  on  the  floor  like  other  folks ! 
Lemme  tell  ye  this,  it'd  do  that  girl  a  world  o'  good  to 
meet  up  with  somebody  with  a  little  sense;  looks  to  me 
as  if  she'd  ben  livin'  with  loonies  too  long  a'ready !  " 

Cicely  rose,  deeply  flushed.  "  If  you  will  kindly  wait, 
Miss  Briggs,  until  I  can  get  out  of  the  room,"  she  said 
indignantly,  "  you  can  discuss  me  with  even  more  free- 
dom." 

"Now,  Cicely!  now,  Susan!"  protested  Mrs.  Gibson, 
deeply  distressed.  "  Don't  talk  like  that,  Susan, —  an' 
don't  you  mind  it,  Cicely,  it's  jest  her  way — " 

"  I  don't  feel  called  upon,"  said  Cicely  loftily,  "  to 
stand  that  kind  of  conversation  in  Miss  Briggs'  way  or 
any  one's  way.  Good  morning." 

"  Oh,  ye  needn't  bother  to  go !  "  said  Susan  grimly,  ris- 
ing too.  "  I  only  come  in  for  a  minute,  an'  I've  heard  so 
much  foolishness  sence  I  ben  here  that  I've  got  to  go 
home  an'  scrub  somethin'  to  git  it  out  o'  my  systim.  Can 
I  hev  my  vinegar,  Marthy?  Thank  yo.  Good-bye." 
The  door  closed  sharply  behind  her. 

"  Don't  you  pay  any  'tention  to  her,  dear,"  said  Mrs. 


A  CLUE  255 

Gibson  soothingly.     "Susan  always  talks  like  that;  she 
don't  mean  anythin'." 

"  She  doesn't  understand  me/'  said  Cicely,  choking 
down  an  injured  sob;  and  instinctively  she  added  within 
herself,  "  Roger  would  never  let  me  be  abused  so !  " 

§ 

Xow  the  spring  was  beginning  to  come,  groping  deli- 
cately through  the  loosened  earth,  moving  softly  in  the 
swelling  buds.  The  fields  were  still  black,  and  the  trees 
bare,  but  the  new  life  was  stirring  impalpably,  exquisitely, 
and  the  grim  earth  was  strangely  transfigured.  The 
farm-activities  took  on  new  vigour ;  John  Gibson  and  his 
men  were  always  at  work,  ploughing  fields,  mending 
fences,  getting  ready  for  the  season  of  sowing  and  grow- 
ing. Martha  too  was  in  a  bustle  of  happy  energy,  run- 
ning into  the  yard  half-a-dozen  times  a  day  to  feel  the 
earth  of  her  garden-beds,  to  look  at  the  buds  on  the 
lilac-twigs,  and  to  "  smell  the  spring."  Even  the  farm- 
hands, stirred  into  a  kind  of  stolid  hilarity,  began  to 
crack  dim  jokes  and  slap  each  other's  backs  explosively. 

Cicely,  sensitive  harp  that  she  was,  had  felt  the  in- 
visible fingers  of  the  spring  sooner  than  any  of  them; 
but  instead  of  answering  their  touch  with  sweet  harmo- 
nies, she  was  only  moved  to  a  wild  turbulence  of  discords. 
Her  hunger  for  Roger,  deepening  every  day,  was  now  (in 
this  season  of  universal  Sehnsucht},  almost  intolerable; 
thwarted  and  repulsed,  it  turned  back  upon  her  in  emo- 
tional storms  that  frightened  herself  by  their  violence: 
and,  now  that  she  was  recovering  from  the  fatigue  and 


256     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

shock  of  her  great  cataclysm,  re-awakening  physical 
strength  stirred  in  her  and  drove  her  to  a  restlessness  that 
was  maddening.  She  vented  her  energy  in  long,  solitary 
walks,  and  in  secret  wild  weeping;  and  horrible  thoughts 
of  suicide  and  despair  haunted  her  in  the  darkness. 

One  morning  she  stood  in  the  doorway,  looking  rest- 
lessly from  the  ever-active  Martha  to  the  men  and  horses 
working  in  the  field.  "  Everybody's  busy  but  me !  "  she 
said  bitterly.  "  How  do  they  all  find  so  much  to  do  ?  " 

Martha  glanced  up  from  the  three-times-daily  pile  of 
dishes.  "  Would  ye  like  to  do  somethin',  dear  ?  "  she 
asked  sympathetically. 

"  How  could  I  ?  "  returned  Cicely  with  sweet  impa- 
tience. "  There  isn't  anything  I  know  how  to  do.  I 
suppose  I'll  have  to  take  a  walk." 

Martha  glanced  again  at  the  dishpan,  and  again  at 
Cicely ;  but  it  needed  a  sterner  nature  than  hers  to  suggest 
a  conjunction  between  objects  so  dissimilar.  She  was 
not  without  an  uneasy  inkling  that  she  was  spoiling  her 
darling,  but  her  instinct,  like  that  of  many  unselfish 
women,  was  all  for  spoiling;  and  Cicely's  youth  and 
pathos,  and  unquestioning  expectation  of  being  spoiled, 
made  the  process  fatally  easy.  She  hesitated  to  speak, 
and  while  she  stood  irresolute,  Cicely  had  taken  her  coat 
from  its  peg  and  gone. 

At  the  foot  of  the  lane  that  led  down  from  the  farm- 
house, the  highroad  ran  right  and  left,  bordered  with 
low-growing  evergreens.  No  one  was  in  sight,  and  the 
road,  twisting  romantically,  and  dark  with  the  rich  brown 
that  promises  spring,  would  have  been  full  of  allure  to 


A  CLUE  257 

any  one  with  a  free  mind  and  an  adventurous  eye.  But 
to  Cicely,  hag-ridden  by  loneliness  and  despair,  in  either 
direction  it  was  horrible, —  to  the  left,  because  it  led  to 
dwellings  and  curious  eyes,  to  the  right  because  it  led 
to  solitude.  After  a  brief  hesitation  she  chose  the  lonely 
way  as  the  lesser  evil,  and  hurried  along  as  fast  as  she 
could  to  get  away  from  the  possible  pursuit  of  observa- 
tion. But  when  she  had  passed  the  turn  of  the  road  that 
hid  her  from  the  farm-house,  and  was  beyond  sign 
of  any  human  companionship,  suddenly  panic  seized  her. 
She  remembered  the  dark  pine-wood  a  little  way  ahead 
of  her,  where  one  day  she  had  fallen  into  such  a  stark 
horror  of  desperation  that  she  thought  to  have  gone  mad ; 
remembered,  too,  the  swift  stream  that  raced  under  the 
bridge  beyond  the  next  turn,  beside  which  she  had  more 
than  once  been  hypnotised  into  thoughts  of  cold  black 
depths,  and  silence,  and  oblivion:  and  the  warm  life 
surged  up  in  her  with  a  shuddering  cry.  She  was  afraid 
to  live, —  but  oh,  she  did  not  want  death,  death  of  the 
body  or  the  brain !  She  faced  about  quickly,  and,  run- 
ning, fled  from  the  fear  of  fear  back  towards  the  village 
and  her  fellow-men. 

Presently  she  came  upon  a  small  white  house,  set  back 
from  the  road  and  gleaming  among  sparse  shrubbery. 
She  knew  it  for  the  abode  of  Susan  Briggs,  and,  check- 
ing her  speed,  hovered  doubtfully  in  front  of  it;  she  had 
no  love  for  the  sharp  spinster,  but  she  needed  human 
companionship,  and  was  afraid  of  Martha's  fond  eyes. 
While  she  stood  hesitating,  the  sound  of  shrill  singing 
from  within  reached  her  ears;  there  was  cheerfulness  in- 


258     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

side  the  house,  at  least,  and  despair  outside  it.  So  she 
made  her  decision,  and,  following  the  sound,  went  up  the 
side  path  to  the  back  door. 

"  From  —  Green-land's  i-cy  mown-tins,"  came  the 
voice,  in  a  strongly  accented  rhythm,  "  From  7n.-jy's 
cor-al  st ra-and  —  Who's  there  ?  Oh,  it's  you,  Cicely. 
Walk  in,  an'  take  a  seat  if  ye  can  find  a  place  to  set  on." 

Cicely,  pushing  open  the  unlatched  door,  found  her- 
self in  a  small  kitchen,  spotless,  warm,  and  full  of  the 
basic  sort  of  comfort  that  grows  up  around  an  active 
body  and  a  contented  mind.  Susan  was,  as  usual,  hard 
at  work,  scrubbing  an  already  immaculate  floor  to  an 
unimagined  perfection  of  spotlessness,  with  brisk  sweeps 
of  the  arm  that  had  acted  as  a  metronome  to  her  singing. 
Cicely,  perceiving  no  unreclaimed  island  in  the  ocean 
of  cleanliness,  sat  on  the  doorstep  and  looked  wistfully 
in. 

"  Mornin' !  "  said  Susan  cheerfully,  quite  unembar- 
rassed by  the  memory  of  their  parting, —  indeed  her 
plainness  of  speech  was  so  much  of  a  habit  that  such  part- 
ings were  frequent  in  her  experience.  "  This  ain't  much 
of  a  place  to  hev  comp'ny  in ;  but  then  it's  no  time  o'  day 
for  comp'ny  anyhow.  What  you  doin'  round  so  early, — 
Marthy  send  ye  on  an  errand?  " 

"  No,  I'm  just  taking  a  walk,"  said  Cicely.  "  I  hadn't 
anything  to  do  at  the  house." 

Susan  stopped  the  steady  march  of  her  scrubbing- 
brush,  and  looked  up  with  blank  astonishment.  "  Nothin' 
to  do!"  she  said.  "  Nothin'  to  do  at  this  time  o'  day! 
Goody  Gorham,  Cicely,  are  ye  crazy  ?  " 

Cicely   looked    astonished   in   her   turn.     "  But    what 


A  CLUE  259 

should  I  do  ?  "  she  asked.  "  What  is  there  for  me  to  do 
here,  at  this  or  any  other  time  of  the  day  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  never !  "  said  Susan.  "  Don't  ye  eat,  to  yore 
house?  Don't  ye  sleep?  Don't  ye  make  a  clutter, 
same's  other  humans?  My  land!  Ye  needn't  tell  me 
ther's  a  Christian  house  in  this  neighbourhood  without 
dish-washin'  an'  bed-makin'  an'  sweepin'  to  do  in  the 
mornin',  becuz  I  wun't  believe  it." 

"  But  Mrs.  Gibson  does  all  those  things,"  explained 
Cicely.  "  I  should  only  be  in  the  way  if  I  hung  around 
her.  In  fact,  sometimes  I've  thought  I'm  a  little  in  the 
way  anyhow." 

Susan  Briggs  abandoned  her  scrubbing  entirely,  wip- 
ing her  hands  and  sitting  back  on  her  heels  to  give  her 
whole  attention  to  a  situation  so  amazing.  "  Cicely 
Cameron !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Are  you  settin'  there  in 
broad  daylight  an'  tellin'  me  that  Marthy  does  every 
stroke  o'  work  in  that  house, —  yore  work  an'  all, —  an* 
you  never  lift  a  finger  to  help  her?  " 

"  But  how  can  I  ?  "  asked  Cicely,  as  blank  as  she.  "  I 
don't  know  how  to  do  anything !  " 

"  For  the  —  Lord's  —  sake !  "  ejaculated  Susan. 
"  There !  I  don't  often  swear,  but  you'd  drive  John  the 
Baptist  to  it."  She  was  silent  a  moment,  overwhelmed; 
then,  with  a  vehemence  that  made  her  visitor  start,  she  burst 
forth,  "  Good  land  o'  Goshen,  Cicely!  Git  up  an'  learn!  " 

Cicely  opened  her  lovely  eyes  wide.  "  I,  learn !  "  she 
repeated  faintly. 

"  Yes,  you,  learn !  "  said  Susan  emphatically.  "  Roll 
up  yore  sleeves  an'  git  up  an'  do  somethin' !  Show  that 
the  Lord  hed  some  reason  for  makin'  ye!  O'  course  it's 


260    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

ridic'lous  to  start  in,  like  a  child  o'  five,  at  yore  time  o' 
life/'  she  added  mercilessly,  "  but  sence  ye  can't  begin 
sooner,  for  gracious  sakes  begin  now !  " 

"  But  people  like  me  don't  do  those  things !  "  protested 
Cicely.  "  They  weren't  meant  to." 

"  Wa'n't  they?  "  demanded  Susan,  in  a  repressed  and 
very  penetrating  voice.  "  Why  wa'n't  they?  " 

"  Why,  because  —  because  —  I  don't  know  why,"  fal- 
tered Cicely. 

"  I  guess  ye  don't,"  returned  Susan  grimly.  "  Ye 
don't  think  yo're  better'n  Marthy  Gibson,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Cicely  politely. 

"  Ye  do!  "  exclaimed  Susan,  staring  at  her.  "  Well, — 
I  —  swan !  A  little,  simple,  turnip-headed  snip  like  you, 
that  don't  know  s'  much  as  how  to  string  a  bean  —  you 
think  yo're  better'n  a  woman  that's  brought  up  a  husband 
an'  four  children,  an'  buried  one,  an'  done  all  the  female 
work  of  a  farm,  an'  took  care  of  a  nuisance  like  you  be- 
sides !  My  land,  if  I  was  the  Lord  I  sh'd  take  a  shingle 
to  ye."  She  sat  searing  Cicely  with  her  scornful  eyes 
for  a  moment  of  silence.  "  What  in  the  world  hev  ye 
done  all  yer  life  ?  "  she  inquired  presently.  "  What  ex- 
cuse hev  ye  hed  for  livin'  ?  " 

"  Why  —  why  — "  stammered  Cicely,  completely  taken 
aback,  "  I've  —  had  lessons, —  and  —  gone  to  parties, — 
and  —  and  entertained, —  and  — " 

"  My  goody !  "  interrupted  Susan  with  contemptuous 
pity.  "  It  must  be  awful  to  lounge  round  an'  clutter  up 
the  earth  like  that.  I'd  ruther  be  a  dishcloth.  Twenty- 
two  years  old  if  yo're  a  day,  an'  don't  even  know  enough 
to  know  ther's  sech  a  thing  as  work !  Livin'  in  the  same 


A  CLUE  261 

house  as  Marthy, —  watchin'  her  cook  for  five,  an'  wash 
up  for  five,  an'  clean,  an'  scrub,  an'  sew,  an'  do  dairy 
work,  an'  make  beds,  an'  wash  an'  iron, —  an'  then  comin' 
round  here  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  mornin'  an'  talkin'  about 
nothin'  to  do!  Good  lack,  Cicely!  why,  a  wart's  more 
use'n  what  you  be !  " 

Cicely  flushed  hotly.  "If  she'd  asked  me  to  help 
her  — "  she  began. 

"  If  you'd  hed  a  grain  o'  sense  you'd  'a'  seen  how 
much  she  needed  help,"  said  Susan  sharply.  "  But  I 
s'pose  '  people  like  you  '  don't  notice  sech  low  things.  I 
don't  s'pose  ye  noticed  how  she  made  that  dress  ye've 
got  on,  doin'  her  sweepin'  at  five  in  the  mornin'  to  git  the 
time, —  an'  you  settin'  by  like  a  flat-iron  an'  never  s' 
much  as  overcastin'  a  seam.  An'  I  don't  s'pose  ye  notice 
how  often  them  little  lemon  tarts  ye  like  so  much  come  on 
the  table, —  nor  how  long  they  take  to  make,  an'  how 
short  to  eat.  An'  who  d'ye  s'pose  pays  for  all  this? 
Them  ginghams,  that  ain't  scarcely  good  enough  for  ye, 
—  did  ye  know  Marthy  bought  'em  with  her  egg-money, 
that  she  was  savin'  to  git  herself  a  spring  dress  with? 
an'  did  ye  know's  she's  ben  killin'  her  chickens,  'stid  o* 
sellin'  'em,  becuz  that's  the  only  kind  o'  meat  you  c'n 
eat  ?  —  her  dress  is  on  yore  outside,  an'  her  hat  on  yore 
inside,  now.  She'll  wear  her  old  clo'es  again  this  spring, 
I  s'pose.  But  then  that  wun't  matter;  she  never  goes 
anywhere  now,  becuz  you  say  yo're  afraid  o'  bein'  lone- 
some if  she  goes  out.  Huh !  " 

"  Oh,  Miss  Briggs  —  Miss  Briggs  — "  gasped  Cicely, 
wide-eyed  and  hot-cheeked,  "  why,  I  never  thought  —  I 
never  dreamt — " 


262     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  No,  I  know  ye  didn't/'  said  Susan  caustically. 
"  Dreamin'  ain't  much  in  the  line  o'  '  people  like  you/— 
excep'  day-dreamin'  an'  gawpin'  out  o'  the  winder  while 
other  folks  are  slavin'  for  ye.  My  goody  gracious, 
Cicely!  If  I  was  in  yore  place  I'd  go  an'  swap  off  that 
shiny  head  for  one  that's  got  a  little  o'  the  illumination 
inside!  " 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Briggs  !  "  said  Cicely,  rather  breath- 
lessly. "  That's  not  a  bad  suggestion.  Thank  you  very 
much."  She  rose  to  her  feet,  blinking  with  the  shock  of 
her  surprise. 

"  Entirely  welcome,"  said  Susan  drily.  She  took  a 
long  breath  after  her  flight  of  eloquence,  and  looked  at 
her  visitor  with  half -defiant  misgiving.  "  Ain't  mad, 
are  ye?  "  she  inquired. 

"  No,"  answered  Cicely.  "  I'm  much  obliged.  I've 
—  I've  learned  a  good  deal  this  morning."  Her  eyes, 
though  half  dazed  by  the  rush  of  new  ideas,  grew  sud- 
denly bright  as  she  looked  at  her  adviser.  "  Good-bye !  " 
she  said.  "  I  can't  stop  any  longer;  I  must  hurry;  there's 
so  much  to  do !  " 

"  Well,  good-bye,"  said  Susan.  She  watched  with 
dawning  approval  as  Cicely  shook  out  her  skirt  and  sped 
down  the  steps;  and  when  the  slender  figure  reached  the 
road  and  broke  into  a  run,  her  face  softened  in  a  grim 
little  smile.  "  After  all,  you  ain't  sech  a  fool  as  ye 
look !  "  she  called. 

Cicely  nodded  smilingly  over^  her  shoulder;  she  was 
running  too  fast  to  speak.  "  I  must  get  home  before 
those  dishes  are  done !  "  she  said  to  herself. 


XIII 

LIGHT    IN    THE    LABYRINTH 

WITH  the  digesting  of  Susan  Brigg's  sharp  medicine,  a 
new  life  began  for  Cicely.  No  inkling  had  ever  entered 
her  mind  that  she  could  have  a  place  in  the  busy  world 
of  doers ;  the  idea  came  like  a  thunderbolt,  and,  weighted 
with  shame  at  the  realisation  of  the  sorry  part  she  had 
been  playing,  it  sank  deep  into  a  mind  which  was  now 
empty  of  all  distractions.  She  plunged  into  the  task  of 
making  amends  to  the  farmer's  wife  with  passionate  zest, 
following  her  from  room  to  room,  and  sharing  all  her 
labours  with  an  eagerness  which  puzzled  and  delighted 
that  kind  soul.  And,  while  she  struggled  and  learned,  the 
blessed  anodyne  of  work  took  hold  upon  her  mind,  and 
drugged  it  to  peace;  her  hands  were  busy  all  day  long, 
and  at  night,  tired  out,  she  slept  dreamlessly. 

"  My,  she's  a  different  girl  from  what  she  was  a  month 
ago !  "  exclaimed  the  outspoken  Susan,  coming  in  one 
morning  as  Cicely,  with  deft  fingers,  was  preparing 
vegetables  for  dinner.  "  When  she  first  come  here  she 
was  the  helplessest  jelly-fish  I  ever  see;  an'  look  at  her 
now  !  She  handles  them  potatoes  jest  as  if  she  reco'nized 
a  potato  when  she  see  one." 

"  Yes,  she  certainly  lies  changed,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson, 
gazing  on  her  fondly.  "  Look  at  her  cheeks  !  They  used 

263 


264     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

to  be  white's  a  sheet,  an'  now  they're  colour  o'  peach- 
blossoms.  An'  she's  gettin'  so  she  can  make  bread  as 
good's  you  or  me.  We  hed  some  this  week  that  I  never 
laid  a  finger  to, —  bakin'  nor  anythin', —  an'  I  wish't 
you'd  'a'  seed  John;  he  was  that  proud,  a  little  more  an' 
he'd  'a'  sent  it  to  the  County  Fair." 

Cicely  looked  up  from  her  work  with  a  gleam  of  re- 
viving sauciness.  "  The  Girl  Wonder  of  Stowe !  "  she 
said.  "  Intelligence  almost  human !  " 

"Makes  jokes,  too!"  remarked  Susan,  in  her  imper- 
sonal fashion.  "  Well,  Marthy,  I  guess  she's  a  sight 
more  agreeable  comp'ny  'n  she  used  to  be,  floppin'  round 
like  a  weepin'  wilier.  What  d'ye  hear  from  Johnny?  " 

Martha  looked  at  her  with  a  glance  of  warning.  "  He's 
well,  thank  ye,"  she  said.  "  When  are  ye  goin'  to  the 
city  ?  " 

"  Same  time's  ever, —  fifth  of  April,"  said  Susan. 
"What's  Johnny  got  to  say  'bout  Cheltenham?" 

"  Nothin'  much,"  said  Martha,  frowning  significantly. 
"  I  'spose  ye'll  hev  a  fine  time  to  Cousin  Jane's." 

"  Now,  Marthy  Gibson !  "  exclaimed  Susan  severely. 
"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  yo're  still  afraid  to  say  a 
word  'bout  Cheltenham  before  that  girl!  Well,  a  little 
more,  an'  you'll  make  me  believe  yo're  soft-headeder'n 
she  is.  Why,  Cicely  ain't  made  o'  burnt  paper,  that 
sayin'  the  name  o'  Cheltenham'll  knock  her  over !  Are 
ye,  Cicely?  " 

Cicely,  putting  a  strong  compulsion  on  herself,  forced 
her  eyes  to  look  up  and  meet  Susan's  steadily.  It  was 
true,  as  the  loving  instinct  of  Mrs.  Gibson  had  long 
since  discovered,  that  the  name  of  the  place  where  she 


NEW  LIGHT  265 

had  been  so  happy  and  so  wretched  was  torture  to  her; 
and  of  late,  since  she  had  found  this  new  palliative  of 
work,  she  had  almost  succeeded  in  pushing  it  out  of  her 
mind.  But  she  had  a  wholesome  fear  of  the  visitor's 
sharp  eyes  and  tongue,  and  shrank  from  betraying  her 
real  feeling.  "  Certainly  not,"  she  said  bravely.  "  What 
about  Cheltenham?  " 

"  Why,  Mis'  Gibson's  got  a  son  there  that  she  thinks 
the  world  an'  all  of,"  said  Susan,  "  an'  she's  got  some 
punkin-headed  notion  that  she  ought  not  to  talk  to  you 
'bout  him.  I  guess  you  c'n  stand  hearin'  him  mentioned 
without  hollerin'  for  the  doctor,  can't  ye  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  s^id  Cicely.  "  Tell  me  about  him,  Mrs. 
Gibson.  I  never  knew  you  had  any  son  but  the  two  in 
the  city." 

"  Yes,  I  got  Johnny,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson.  Her  voice 
altered  and  softened  exquisitely,  filling  with  love  and 
pride. 

"  An'  what  kind  of  a  boy  is  he  ?  "  demanded  Susan. 
"  Is  he  a  nice  boy,  or  ain't  he?  Is  he  a  smart  boy,  or  a 
noodle  ?  " 

The  farmer's  wife  glanced  doubtfully  at  Cicely,  but, 
finding  her  calm  and  apparently  interested,  could  not 
resist  the  beloved  subject.  "  Oh,  Johnny's  the  smartest 
boy,"  she  said,  "  an'  the  best  boy  — !  Jest  think,  workin' 
as  hard  as  he  does  for  his  schoolin',  for  two  years  he's 
ben  head  of  his  class  in  one  study,  an'  second  in  another. 
An'  he's  earned  every  cent  o'  what  it  cost,  an'  give  pres- 
ents to  his  father  an'  me,  Christmases,  besides.  I  don't 
s'pose  ther'  ever  was  a  better  boy  'n  my  Johnny, — 
bless  his  heart!  " 


266    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Now,  you  look  at  her !  "  exclaimed  Susan,  pointing 
to  her  friend's  transfigured  face  with  the  manner  of  a 
proud  showman.  "  Ain't  it  a  shame  for  her  to  keep  all 
that  bottled  up  in  her  insides?  Yo're  enjoyin'  this,  ain't 
ye,  Cicely  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Cicely.  "  Tell  me  some  more.  Has 
he  lots  of  friends  ?  " 

"  Land,  I  sh'd  say  so !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson  happily. 
"  Why,  I  s'pose  ther'  ain't  one  o'  the  waiters  in  Jefferson 
Hall,  where  he  works,  that  ain't  like  a  brother  to  him; 
an'  Mr.  Randolph,  he  that  runs  the  Bureau  o'  Student 
Self-help,  he  said  ther'  wa'n't  a  student  in  Cheltenham 
hed  more  chances  at  good  jobs  than  Johnny.  An'  my, 
the  good  times  he  hes!  Nights,  when  they've  got  the'r 
dinin'-room  work  done,  they  set  in  each  other's  rooms  an' 
study;  an'  Sunday  afternoons  ther's  free  concerts,  an' 
afterwards  they  take  walks  together;  an'  he  belongs  to  a 
debatin'  s'ciety;  an'  once  every  year  he  gets  invited  to 
the  President's  house." 

"Why,  he's  one  of  the  janitors!"  thought  Cicely. 
"  Perhaps  Roger  knows  him. —  I  mustn't  think  about 
Roger;  I  mustn't." 

"  Tell  about  the  professors,"  prompted  Susan.  "  You 
seem  to  think  they're  cherubims  an'  seraphims,  the  whole 
lot  of  'em.  Tell  about  them  angelic  critters." 

"  Well,  I  must  say, — "  said  Martha,  with  a  glowing 
face  and  unusual  volubility,  "  you  c'n  laugh,  Susan,  but 
I  must  say  I  don't  s'pose  ther's  sech  another  lot  o'  men 
anywhere  in  this  state.  Jest  think  o'  what  they  do! 
With  all  the  education  an'  all  the  brains  they  got,  givin' 
up  their  lives,  an'  their  chance  o'  makin'  money,  an'  all 


NEW  LIGHT  267 

that,  j  est  to  train  up  those  boys  into  men, —  do  you  s'pose 
ther's  anythin'  finer  than  that?  An'  unselfish  —  my 
land !  Why,  ther's  one  man  there  that's  sot  up  nights  a 
hundred  times  with  Johnny,  helpin'  him  with  work  that 
come  hard  to  him;  Johnny  says  he  never  could  'a'  got 
through  his  soph'more  year  without  him.  My,  if  I  get 
started  on  that  man  — !  Johnny  says  the  encourage- 
ment, an'  the  friendship,  he's  hed  from  him — " 

"  Now  we're  gittin'  there !  "  chuckled  Susan,  with  acrid 
affection.  "  I  knowed  'twouldn't  be  long  before  we 
reached  the  mornin'  star  an'  fount  of  every  blessin'! 
You  want  to  listen,  Cicely:  this  is  the  feller  that  makes 
Jonathan  Edwards  look  like  a  pickpocket." 

A  hand  seemed  to  clutch  Cicely's  heart,  throttling  its 
beating.  Some  instinct  made  her  certain  that  they  were 
talking  of  Roger;  and  she  knew  that  if  she  listened  all 
the  passion  of  longing  and  despair  that  she  had  been 
keeping  at  bay  would  rush  back  to  overwhelm  her. 
She  rose  quickly,  averting  her  face.  "  I  haven't  time 
now  —  I  must  put  my  potatoes  on,"  she  said  unstead- 
ily. 

Mrs.  Gibson  cast  a  quick  glance  at  her,  and  checked 
her  flow  of  speech.  "Well,  jest  hear  me!"  she  said. 
"  Gabblin'  on  as  if  I  hedn't  a  thing  in  the  world  to  do 
but  gabble, —  an'  here  it's  butter-packin'  day,  an'  boiled 
dinner  to  get  int'  the  bargain!  Land  sakes,  Cicely,  I 
guess  if  you  ain't  got  time,  I  ain't  neither.  You  excuse 
me,  Susan ;  I  got  to  be  steppin'." 

"  So've  I,"  said  Susan,  rising.  "  I  jest  run  in  to  pass 
the  time  o'  day.  I'm  glad  I  got  that  much  out  o'  yore 
systim,  Marthy,  anyway!  You  give  her  a  shakin'  up 


268     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

'bout  once  in  so  often,  Cicely,  so's  all  that  Cheltenham 
talk  wun't  settle  in  her." 

"  Oh,  Cicely  needn't  bother !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  laugh- 
ing. "  I've  talked  s'  much  now  I  c'n  afford  to  hold  my 
tongue  awhile." 

"  Well,  if  Cicely  lets  it  get  stuck  like  'twas  before,  I'll 
come  over  an'  take  the  monkey-wrench  to  it,"  remarked 
Miss  Briggs,  departing. 

"  There,  I've  escaped  this  time ! "  thought  Cicely, 
"  and  I'll  know  better  than  to  run  such  a  risk  again.  I 
mustn't  think  about  —  him ;  and  I  won't,  I  won't !  " 


Yet  all  day  the  tantalizing  nearness  of  the  subject  she 
was  trying  to  avoid  gave  her  no  peace,  and  finally,  at 
supper-time,  she  could  not  keep  her  tongue  from  it. 
"  I'll  just  find  out  if  it  is  Roger,"  she  thought,  "  and 
then,  when  I  know  for  certain,  I  can  forget  all  about  it." 
So  she  turned  to  the  farmer,  beside  whom  she  sat,  and 
said, —  not  without  a  frightened  shortening  of  the  breath, 
— "  I've  just  heard  that  you  have  a  son  at  college,  Mr. 
Gibson.  Why  didn't  you  ever  tell  me  about  him?  " 

The  farmer  confronted  her  with  an  astonished  face, 
ruddy  with  exercise  and  cold  ablutions.  "  Why,  Marthy 
said  ye  didn't  want  — "  he  began ;  then,  checking  himself 
hastily  in  response  to  a  sub-mensal  conj  ugal  prod,  "  Why, 
I  —  well,  ye  see, —  well,  I  jest  didn't  seem  to  happen 
to!" 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  said  Cicely  simply.  "  I  used  to 
live  in  Cheltenham,  and  I  —  I  was  very  fond  of  it."  She 
heard  herself  making  this  statement  without  surprise;  it 


NEW  LIGHT  269 

seemed  now,  looking  back,  that  it  had  always  been  true. 
"  Your  son  likes  it,  doesn't  he?  " 

"He  does  so!"  said  the  farmer;  and  under  his  dry 
matter-of-fact  surface  came  the  same  quickening  of  pride 
and  love  that  his  wife  had  shown.  "  He  jest  swallers 
it  whole, —  same's  I  would've  if  I'd  hed  a  chance.  O' 
course,  I  do'  know's  Johnny's  getting  the  real  advantages 
o'  college, — "  he  added,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  shrewd 
eyes,  "  runnin'  high  jumps,  an'  broken  ribs,  an'  You-Be- 
The-Goat  s'cieties, —  but  as  fur's  plain  knowledge  is  con- 
cerned, he's  certainly  doin'  well." 

"  And  he  likes  the  —  the  faculty  ?  "  pursued  Cicely, 
beginning  to  tremble  a  little. 

"  His  teachers  ?  I  sh'd  say  he  did !  "  said  John  Gib- 
son. "  I'd  thrash  him  if  he  didn't.  You  know  'em, 
Miss  Cicely;  now  ain't  they  an  A  No.  1  lot?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Cicely.  She  hesitated  for  a  moment, 
trembling  more  and  more ;  but  now,  though  she  was  afraid 
to  go  on,  she  was  unable  to  turn  back.  "  I  think  there's 
one  —  one  he  —  likes  —  more  than  all,"  she  stammered. 
"  Do  you  —  do  you  know  who  that  is?  " 

The  farmer  turned  in  his  elbow-chair,  melted  into  com- 
plete unreserve.  "  Yes,  ma'am,  I  do,"  he  said  em- 
phatically; "I  certainly  do;  I've  hed  the  privilege  o' 
shakin'  hands  with  that  man ;  an'  what's  more, —  well,  I 
ain't  sentimental,  you  know  that,  but  I  b'lieve  I'd  walk 
ten  miles  barefoot  to  do  somethin'  to  oblige  him.  Pro- 
fessor Roger  Ford,  that's  his  name:  an'  I  guess  the 
Recordin'  Angel'll  write  it  down  in  pretty  big  letters. 
What  that  man's  done  for  our  Johnny  —  well,  I'd  need 
to  know  the  dictionary  by  heart  to  tell  it  all  out. —  Lord, 


270    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Miss  Cicely !  "  exclaimed  John  Gibson,  with  a  burst  of 
rare  emotion,  "  what  happiness  you've  bed,  livin'  right 
side  by  side  with  men  like  that !  " 

At  the  sound  of  Roger's  name,  Cicely's  heart,  that  had 
been  so  chilled  and  steeped  in  resentment,  gave  a  great 
joyous  leap  of  pride.  "My  Roger!"  she  thought. 
"  It's  my  own  Roger  that  they  love  so !  "  and  for  a 
moment  she  was  ready  to  shout  her  glorious  secret  aloud, 
that  these  people  who  knew  how  to  value  him  might  re- 
joice with  her.  But  on  the  heels  of  her  gladness  came 
the  thought,  "  No,  not  my  Roger  any  longer.  Never, 
never  again."  And  when  the  farmer's  last  words  reached 
her,  her  heart  plunged  downwards  into  a  bottomless 
abyss  of  despair,  sickening  and  suffocating  her. 

"  Yes,  I've  —  had  —  happiness,"  she  said  faintly. 
"Will  you  —  excuse  me,  please?  I'm  —  not  hungry." 
She  pushed  her  chair  away  from  the  table,  and  struggled 
to  her  feet. 

"  Why,  Cicely !  "  said  the  farmer,  his  kind  face  cloud- 
ing with  affectionate  anxiety.  "  What's  the  matter? 
Ain't  ye  well?  " 

Mrs.  Gibson,  jumping  up,  hurried  to  her  side.  "  You 
come  upstairs  with  me,  dear,"  she  said.  "  Yo're  all  tired 
out.  An'  you,  John,  you  ain't  got  any  more  sense  than 
a  —  than  a  man ;  that's  what's  the  matter  with  you." 
She  put  a  warmly  protecting  arm  around  Cicely,  and  led 
her  from  the  room. 

In  her  little  chamber  under  the  eaves,  Cicely  flung 
herself  on  the  bed  and  burst  into  passionate  sobbing. 
Her  barriers  of  self-protection  were  gone,  and  despair 
surged  over  her  in  a  flood.  "  Oh,  I  can't  bear  it !  "  she 


NEW  LIGHT  271 

cried  within  herself.  "  They  mustn't  speak  of  him  — 
they  have  no  right!  Roger,  Roger,  Roger!  Oh,  I  hate 
you,  Roger  —  I  won't  think  of  you  —  I  won't  —  oh, 
Badger,  they  talk  of  you  —  they  love  you  —  and  I've  lost 
you  —  Badger  — " 

"  Dearie !  "  said  Martha  Gibson,  sitting  by  the  bed 
and  folding  the  slender  body  in  her  arms.  "  What's 
the  trouble  ?  Tell  me ;  tell  mother,  dear  !  " 

Cicely  caught  at  her  sobbing  breath,  trying  to  still  it. 
"  I  can't  —  I  can't,"  she  said.  "  Don't  ask  me  —  I  can 
never  tell  it." 

"  Yes,  ye  can,  dear,"  said  the  older  woman  gently. 
"  The  longer  ye  keep  it  shet  up,  the  worse  it  hurts. 
Let  it  out,  dear;  tell  me  all  about  it.  Mebbe  I  can  help." 

"  No,  no,"  sobbed  Cicely,  struggling  for  self-posses- 
sion, "  nobody  can  help.  Something  went  cruelly  wrong 
in  my  life, —  but  it's  too  late  now  —  to  make  it  right 
again.  It's  all  —  all  over." 

"  Nothin's  ever  all  over,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  holding 
her  close.  "  The  longer  ye  live,  the  more  ye  know  that. 
It's  always  there,  waitin'  to  be  took  up  again  whenever 
we're  willin', —  love,  or  hate,  or  whatever  we  cry  about, 
—  nothin'  can  stop  it  but  death,  an'  even  that  can't  stop 
it  forever.  An'  death  ain't  hed  any  hand  in  yore  trouble, 
dear." 

Cicely  shivered.  "  My  trouble  is  worse  than  death," 
she  said.  "  Nothing  can  he*lp  it  —  nothing.  Everything 
is  ended  —  hope  —  life — " 

Mrs.  Gibson  smiled,  a  wise,  tear-misted  smile.  "  It's 
queer  what  a  sight  o'  things  that's  ended  forever  manages 
somehow  to  begin  again,"  she  said.  "  I've  seen  a  many 


272    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

people  cry  'emselves  blind,  little  daughter,  but  never  a 
one  that  couldn't  see  again  after  the  tears  was  wiped 
away." 

"  She  can't  understand ;  she  could  never  understand/' 
said  Cicely  to  herself,  with  dreary  finality.  Conquering 
her  weeping  with  a  great  effort,  she  slipped  out  of  the 
loving  arms,  and  stood  up.  She  felt  all  alone  in  a  vast, 
hostile  world,  naked  and  very  cold.  "  Then  you  haven't 
seen  trouble  like  mine,"  she  said  aloud,  steadying  her 
voice  with  a  note  of  hardness.  "  There  is  no  cure  for 
that." 

The  farmer's  wife  rose  too.  "  Cicely,"  she  said 
gravely,  "  for  every  person  in  the  world  that  thinks  he's 
ben  wronged,  ther's  another  that  thinks  he's  ben  wronged 
too;  an'  the  chances  are  that  the  other's  jest  as  right  as 
the  first  one.  Trouble's  most  always  got  more'n  one 
side." 

Cicely  shook  her  head.  "  Not  my  trouble,"  she  an- 
swered stubbornly. 

Mrs.  Gibson,  feeling  herself  repulsed,  gave  a  little 
sigh.  "  Well,  that's  as  it  may  be,"  she  said  quietly. 
"  Now  I'm  goin'  to  put  ye  to  bed,  dear.  Yo're  all  wore 
out."  Without  more  words  she  began  to  take  off  the 
pretty  garments  and  unbind  the  shining  hair,  looking 
meanwhile  with  mute  yearning  at  the  white,  set  face. 

Cicely,  centred  in  misery,  suffered  all  these  ministra- 
tions in  unheeding  silence.  But  when  everything  was 
done,  and  the  older  woman  was  tucking  her  into  her 
narrow  bed,  a  new  instinct, —  born  of  these  last  weeks 
of  helpfulness, —  made  her  look  up  with  suddenly  ob- 
servant eyes.  "  Why,  you're  tired,  Mrs.  Gibson !  "  she 


NEW  LIGHT  273 

said.  "  And  —  why,  you've  been  crying !  What  is  it 
makes  you  so  good  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  love  ye,  dear/'  answered  the  farmer's  wife,  simply. 

"  Oh,  and  I  love  you !  "  cried  Cicely,  with  a  warm  rush 
of  gratitude.  "  You're  the  best  woman  I've  ever  known. 
Kiss  me." 

"  Good  night,  little  daughter,"  said  the  woman,  kissing 
her  fondly. 

"  Good  night  —  mother,"  said  Cicely.  She  had  never 
said  the  word  within  her  own  memory;  it  sounded 
strangely  in  her  ears. 

After  the  door  had  closed  behind  the  farmer's  wife, 
Cicely  lay  thinking,  a  little  tranquillized  by  the  last  in- 
cident. "  I  called  her  Mother,"  she  said  to  herself, 
dreamily.  "  I  wish  she  were  my  mother.  I  love  her. 
And  the  farmer,  too, —  I  love  him,  I  think ;  he  looked 
at  me  so  kindly  when  I  came  away.  They're  the  kindest 
people  in  the  whole  world."  Then,  suddenly,  with  a 
shock  of  surprise,  the  thought  jumped  into  her  mind, 
"  Why,  these  are  the  people  that  Roger's  '  janitors  '  come 
from !  —  and  they're  better  people,  a  hundred  times  bet- 
ter, than  I !  What  if  —  what  if  I  made  a  mistake  about 
that?  "  For  a  long  time  she  lay  bewildered  by  wonder, 
while,  through  this  first  rift,  light  came  pouring  into 
her  carefully  darkened  mind. 

At  last  she  sat  up  in  bed,  in  the  newly  illumined  dark, 
and  made  her  confession  bravely.  "  Roger  was  right, 
and  I  was  wrong.  Roger  knew  best;  I  wish  I  could  beg 
his  pardon.  .  .  .  And  now  it's  too  late,  too  late!  I'm 
just  learning  what  he  is, —  and  I've  lost  him  —  forever! 
O  Roger,  Roger  —  forever!  Oh,  why  was  I  so  blind?  " 


THE  spring  marched  on,  radiant,  triumphant;  and  with 
it  marched  the  mind  of  Cicely,  rediscovering  life.  The 
little  leaves  peeped  out  to  greet  the  shining  sun;  the 
birches  were  a  shimmer  of  misty  green  over  a  gleam  of 
virgin  white,  and  the  oak-leaves,  in  little  rosy  clusters, 
made  those  five-toed  "  squirrel-paws  "  which  used  to  mark 
for  the  Indians  the  time  for  sowing  corn.  The  farmer 
was  hard  at  work  in  the  fields,  ploughing,  planting,  nur- 
turing; and  Cicely,  whenever  she  was  at  a  pause  in  her 
work  about  the  house,  followed  him,  learning  for  the  first 
time  the  wonderful  lore  of  creation. 

"  Why  do  you  tear  up  the  earth,  that  looks  so  smooth 
and  peaceful,  and  leave  it  all  j  agged  and  raw  ?  "  she 
asked  him. 

"  So's  it  can  blossom  in  its  time,"  said  the  farmer. 
'  'Twun't  fret  much  'bout  the  troubles  o'  ploughin'-time 
when  it's  dressed  for  spring." 

"  That's  a  hard  way  to  grow  beautiful,"  said  Cicely, 
with  a  sigh. 

"  I  expect  it's  'bout  the  surest  way,  though,"  observed 
John  Gibson. 

"  And  the  poor  little  seeds,"  added  Cicely,  shivering, 
"  it's  hard  on  them,  too,  to  be  buried  in  the  black,  cold 
ground !  " 

274 


SEASON  OF  GROWING        275 

"  That's  the  way  they  get  the'r  chance  to  live  again," 
said  the  farmer. 


In  the  house  as  well,  as  she  moved  from  task  to  task, 
Cicely  kept  steadily  learning.  She  had  mastered  all  the 
simpler  domestic  arts,  and,  now  that  the  work  was  grow- 
ing too  accustomed  to  be  a  distraction,  her  mind  was  con- 
stantly alert.  She  could  no  longer  drug  herself  with 
fatigue  until  she  ceased  to  think;  she  was  tormented  day 
and  night  by  loneliness,  and  often  by  bitter  rebellion; 
and  yet  she  felt  with  a  kind  of  pleasure  the  steadily  in- 
creasing prick  of  the  mental  growing-pains. 

"  Mrs.  Gibson,"  she  said  suddenly,  one  day  as  they 
stood  cutting  out  cookies  at  the  mixing-board,  "  you  like 
to  work,  don't  you?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  "  I  s'pose  I  do. 
I  always  hev  worked;  I  never  thought  much  about  it. 
Yes,  I  do  like  to  work,  first-rate." 

"  Do  you  like  to  work  for  the  sake  of  working,"  asked 
Cicely,  "  or  because  you  are  working  for  a  particular 
person  ?  "  For  life,  which  used  to  touch  her  so  lightly, 
had  begun  to  make  her  analytical  of  late. 

"  Lemme  see,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson  thoughtfully.  "  I 
like  to  work,  yes;  an'  come  to  think  of  it,  I  s'pose  it's 
becuz  I'm  workin'  for  John." 

"  That's  it,"  said  Cicely,  half  to  herself,  "  that's  the 
whole  thing, —  working  for  John."  She  glanced  with  a 
sigh  at  her  floury,  useful  hands,  which  began  to  look  use- 
less to  her  once  more. 

"  It  ain't  jest  makin'  things  for  him  to  eat,"  reflected 


276    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

Mrs.  Gibson,  thinking  aloud.  "  It's  more  becuz  I  know 
he's  workin',  an'  I  like  to  be  doin'  my  share.  O'  course 
ye  couldn't  hev  a  real  marriage,  with  one  workin'  an'  one 
settin'  idle;  that's  bound  to  be  a  failure,  becuz  tain't  a 
partnership." 

Cicely  looked  up  quickly,  fastening  her  eyes  on  the 
older  woman's  face  with  a  look  of  startled  inquiry. 
"  You  think  that?  "  she  said. 

"  Why,  I  know  it !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson.  "  I  ain't  much 
on  book-learnin',  but  that  stands  to  reason.  Could  ye 
hev  a  business  comp'ny, —  or  a  pair  o'  brothers  'n'  sisters, 

—  or  even  a  friendship, —  where  one  o'  the  parties  took 
everythin'  an'  give  nothin'  ?     'Tain't  possible.     An'  how 
could  anybody  expect  to  get  along  that  way  in  marriage, 
that's  the  mutualest  thing  of  all  ?  " 

Cicely's  hands  stopped  moving,  and  she  stared  at  them 
intently  without  seeing  them.  "  But  supposing,"  she 
protested,  "  one  of  the  partners  didn't  know  how  to  work, 

—  or  there  was  nothing  for  her  to  do  ?  " 

"  Nothin'  to  do!  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson.  "  Cicely,  child, 
how  you  talk !  Why,  ther'  ain't  anybody  in  this  world 
that's  got  nothin'  to  do.  They  don't  all  work  with  the'r 
hands, —  some  ain't  got  the  strength  to,  an'  some  hev 
money  an'  can  hire  it  done,  an'  some  hev  so  much  educa- 
tion they're  only  fit  for  thinkin'  jobs, —  but  you  show 
me  the  human  bein'  that  don't  owe  some  kind  of  a  duty 
to  somebody,  an'  I'll  show  you  a  corpse.  Land,  Cicely, 
the  world's  jest  crowdin'  with  things  to  do!  " 

Cicely's  mind  ran  back  over  the  days  of  her  married 
life,  and  a  score  of  half-forgotten  passages  started  up  in 
her  memory, —  Mrs.  Davidson's  counsels  about  her  share 


SEASON  OF  GROWING        277 

of  Roger's  work,  times  when  Roger  had  turned  to  her 
for  help  which  she  refused  to  give,  and  the  eloquent  testi- 
mony of  so  many  of  the  homes  about  them,  where  husband 
and  wife  worked  and  sacrificed  happily  side  by  side.  She 
gave  a  great  sigh  that  was  half  a  sob.  How  could  she 
have  been  so  blind?  All  that  time  she  had  sat  in  idle- 
ness, greedy  hands  lying  open  in  her  lap,  taking,  taking, 
taking;  she  had  watched  Roger  toil  and  worry,  while  she 
played  the  part  of  the  horse-leech's  daughter;  and  she 
had  called  that  love  —  married  love ! 

"  Oh,  you're  right, —  you're  right !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Oh,  why,  why,  why  didn't  I  know,  before  it  was  too 
late?" 

The  farmer's  wife  looked  at  her  with  a  wise,  loving 
smile.  "  You  ain't  too  old  to  learn,  dear,  even  yet,"  she 
observed. 

§ 

So,  in  the  passing  of  winter  and  the  blooming  of  the 
sun-warmed  earth,  all  the  frosts  of  resentment  and  bitter- 
ness melted  gradually  out  of  Cicely's  soul.  She  knew 
well  enough  now  that  all  the  blame  came  back  to  her,  to 
her  selfishness,  her  ignorance,  her  folly;  knew,  too,  with 
that  cruel  wisdom  of  the  retrospect,  that  disaster  might 
have  been  averted  easily, —  so  easily !  —  if  only  she  had 
had  eyes  to  see.  Many  a  night,  not  tired  enough  to 
sleep,  she  lay  and  pictured  the  foolish,  trivial  steps  that 
had  led  from  one  catastrophe  to  another,  until  she  could 
have  beaten  her  brains  out  for  the  sickening  needlessness 
of  it  all.  Roger  had  been  hers,  they  had  loved,  they  had 
held  heaven  within  their  hands;  and  she  had  flung  it  all 


278    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

away  for  an  idle  caprice,  a  silly  fancied  grievance !  In 
those  times  only  the  coming  of  morning  and  work  kept 
her  whole  and  sane. 

And  through  it  all  her  need  of  Roger  grew.  Never, 
not  even  in  those  first  wonder-days  of  their  life  together, 
had  she  loved  him  so.  She  thought  a  thousand  times  a 
day  of  acts  of  quiet  nobility  which  she  had  hardly  noted 
at  the  time  of  their  performance, —  of  his  consideration 
for  old  people,  poor  people,  infirm  people;  of  his  beauti- 
ful brotherly  kindness  to  his  proteges ;  of  the  courteous 
thought  fulness  in  little  things  that  never  failed  him  even 
under  his  greatest  pressure  of  fatigue  and  worry.  She 
thought,  too,  with  anguish,  of  the  passion  of  devotion,  the 
infinite  selfless  love  that  had  been  hers.  And  sometimes, 
at  the  sudden  memory  of  his  shabby  old  working-coat,  or 
the  slow  Cicely-smile  that  had  belonged  to  her  alone,  her 
heart  seemed  to  break  within  her. 

She  never  questioned  the  irrevocableness  of  her  loss. 
Now  that  the  shimmering  froth  of  the  surface  Cicely  had 
effervesced  away,  underneath  there  showed  a  still  pool 
(growing  wider  and  deeper  day  by  day),  of  reason  and 
justice:  she  had  spoiled  her  life  by  her  own  act;  she 
must  pay  the  penalty.  When  week  followed  week,  and 
it  became  increasingly  clear  that  Roger  was  making  no 
effort  to  find  her,  she  did  not  wonder  nor  rebel.  She  had 
made  her  lonely  bed  with  her  own  hands,  and  would  lie 
in  it  without  wailing. 


Nowadays  the  chief  pleasure  of  Cicely's  life  was  in 
hearing  Roger  spoken  of  by  these  people  who  loved  him; 


SEASON  OF  GROWING        279 

and  the  farmer,  who  had  seen  him  face  to  face,  became 
her  special  comforter.  He  had  long  since  developed  a 
fatherly  affection  for  her,  and  she,  since  her  discovery 
of  the  bond  that  united  them,  had  begun  to  cherish  him 
peculiarly ;  looking  on  him  with  her  newly-developed  sym- 
pathy, she  discovered  under  his  dry  exterior  a  wistful 
idealism  and  a  capacity  for  devotion  which  astonished 
her.  Like  so  many  men  of  his  calling  in  New  England, 
he  had  a  devout  reverence  for  education;  towards  it  he 
had  thirsted  and  aspired  in  his  youth,  and  had  been  balked 
by  poverty;  and  now  that  his  aspirations  had  found  a 
vent  in  his  youngest  son,  he  had  conceived  for  his  son's 
benefactor  an  admiration  which  amounted  to  a  quiet 
middle-aged  hero-worship.  Roger  the  man  of  knowledge, 
the  "  professor,"  and  Roger  the  warm-hearted  friend, 
mingled  in  his  mind  into  something  far  above  the  common 
run  of  men.  Cicely  found  him  as  ready  for  the  subject 
as  herself;  she  had  but  to  mention  something  remotely 
allied  to  college  interests  to  lead  inevitably  to  Chelten- 
ham, Johnny  and  Roger;  and  their  daily  conversa- 
tions nearly  always  managed  to  arrive  at  the  beloved 
goal. 

"  Once,  when  I  was  a  little  girl,"  she  said  to  him  one 
day  at  the  table,  "  my  uncle  took  me  to  Ghent,  just  after 
a  Belgian  crew  had  defeated  Oxford  and  Cambridge  on 
the  Thames;  and  we  got  there  the  day  they  returned,  in 
the  midst  of  the  rejoicing.  It  was  so  funny!  Do  you 
know,  those  athletic  oarsmen  had  long,  nicely  combed 
beards;  and  their  admirers  met  them  at  the  station  with 
big  set-pieces  of  roses  and  violets,  and  they  bowed  and 
smiled  and  clutched  their  flowers  just  like  debutantes. 


280     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

And  then  somebody  shouted  '  'Eep !  'eep ! '  and  the  others 
answered  '  'Urray ! '  and  then  they  all  began  eep-eeping 
together,  each  at  his  own  time." 

"  What  did  they  do  that  for  ?  "  inquired  the  farmer, 
looking  puzzled.  "  Tryin'  to  sing  like  birds?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Cicely,  "  trying  to  cheer  like  English- 
men." 

One  of  the  farm-hands,  a  solemn  Swede,  exploded  in 
an  unexpected  guffaw  that  made  Cicely  jump.  So  far 
from  being  annoyed,  however,  as  she  would  once  have 
been,  she  felt  distinctly  pleased  at  having  elicited  so 
definite  a  response;  she  gave  him  a  comradely  smile,  and 
he  grinned  sheepishly  back  at  her. 

"  Furrin  ways  must  be  queer,"  remarked  the  farmer. 

"  Well,  they're  different  from  ours,"  said  Cicely. 

"  Yes,  that's  what  I  say,"  returned  John  Gibson. 
"  Our  ways  are  good  enough  for  me.  Now  that  time 
I  was  to  Cheltenham,  an'  Johnny  took  me  to  the  football 
game,  I  seen  a  lot  o'  foolishness, —  fellers  wavin'  their 
arms  an'  cock-a-doodle-dooin'  all  together, —  but  ther' 
wa'n't  no  birdy  talk  nor  girly  doin's,  like  you  tell  about. 
Those  fellers  that  played  was  men,  I  tell  ye,  all  the  way 
through.  An'  the  fellers  that  cheered  for  'em  was  men 
too,  on  our  side  an'  t'other, —  got  up  an  cheered  for  each 
other  after  it  was  over,  they  did,  licked  ones  an'  lickers 
alike." 

"  I  wish  I  had  seen  that  game,"  said  Cicely.  "  Our 
team  won,  didn't  it?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am, —  six  to  nothin',"  said  the  farmer.  "  I 
wish't  ye  lied  seen  it, —  it  was  wuth  seein'.  Everythin' 
in  Cheltenham  is,  I  guess." 


SEASON  OF  GROWING        281 

"  Let  me  see, —  you  took  a  walk  around  the  town 
afterwards,  didn't  you?"  prompted  Cicely. 

"  Well,  I  sh'd  say  so ! "  exclaimed  John  Gibson. 
"  Why,  that  was  when  I  met  Professor  Ford !  Johnny 
introduced  us  after  the  game,  an'  he  walked  all  over  the 
place  with  us,  an'  took  us  into  all  the  buildin's." 

Cicely's  heart  began  to  quicken  its  beating,  as  it  always 
did  at  this  stage  of  the  oft-told  tale.  "  That  must  have 
been  very  interesting,"  she  said  eagerly. 

"  Inter-estin  ain't  the  word  for  it,"  said  the  farmer, 
with  conviction.  "  It  was  a  reg'lar  spree  for  me, —  that's 
what  it  was.  Walkin'  through  them  buildin's  chock- 
full  o'  learnin', —  with  one  o'  the  learnedest  professors 
beside  me,  an'  him  my  son's  friend, —  I  tell  ye  I  hed  to 
pinch  myself  to  make  sure  I  was  awake.  That  was  jest 
about  the  biggest  treat  o'  my  life." 

"  And  Pro  —  Professor  Ford, — "  said  Cicely,  "  he 
loves  Cheltenham;  I  know  he  enjoyed  showing  it." 

"  He  did  so,"  said  the  farmer.  "  I  couldn't  help  but 
notice  how  it  brightened  him  up.  He  was  lookin'  pretty 
sober  when  I  fust  see  him,  an'  I  says  to  myself,  '  That's 
a  man  with  somethin'  on  his  mind  ' ;  but  soon  as  he  begun 
to  go  round  with  us,  why,  he  hed  a  different  face  alto- 
gether.—  An'  yet  'twan't  so  much  his  pleasure  in  show- 
in'  off  his  college  that  heartened  him  up,"  he  added 
thoughtfully;  "'twas  his  pleasure  in  seein'  how  much 
pleasure  he  was  givin'  me." 

"  Oh  yes,  of  course,"  said  Cicely  politely.  Then,  feel- 
ing, with  the  new  truthfulness  of  perception  that  was  a 
part  of  her  re-birth,  the  insincerity  of  her  reply,  she  cast 
it  aside  with  sudden  impatience.  "  What  makes  you 


282    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

think  that?"  she  demanded.  "Why  should  he  take 
more  pleasure  in  pleasing  you  than  in  pleasing  himself? 
That's  not  natural." 

The  farmer  smiled,  quizzically,  but  very  kindly. 
"  Young  lady,"  he  said,  "  nat'ral  or  not, —  when  you've 
lived  in  the  world  as  long's  I  hev,  you'll  still  be  sur- 
prised to  see  the  proportion  o'  folks's  happiness  that's 
made  out  of  other  folks's  happiness.  'Bout  nine-tenths, 
I  sh'd  say,  at  a  rough  guess." 

Cicely  gazed  at  him  with  startled  eyes  of  surprise. 
"  You  really  believe  that?  "  she  exclaimed.  "I  —  won- 
der !  "  And  she  fell  silent,  thinking. 


"  Mrs.  Gibson,"  she  said  a  little  later,  as  the  two  wom- 
en were  washing  the  dishes  together,  "  you  heard  what 
your  husband  said,  didn't  you,  about  getting  happiness 
out  of  other  people's  happiness  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  I  heard  it,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson.  "  I  like 
to  listen  when  John's  talkin',"  she  added,  reflectively; 
"  it's  so  —  so  kind  o'  sensible." 

"  And  do  you  believe  it?  "  asked  Cicely.  "  That  about 
happiness,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  B'lieve  it?  Why,  o'  course  I  do!  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson. 
"  Why,  ther's  no  question  about  it.  Ther'  ain't  a  woman 
in  this  world,  I  s'pose,  that  don't  get  the  biggest  part  o' 
her  happiness  that  way." 

"  I  don't,"  said  Cicely  obstinately.  "  I've  been  think- 
ing about  it;  and  I  know  I  want  my  own  happiness,  and 
not  anybody  else's." 

Mrs.  Gibson  smiled  fondly  at  her.  "  You  ain't  a 
woman,  dear,"  she  said.  "  Yo're  a  child." 


SEASON  OF  GROWING        283 

"  O  Mrs.  Gibson/'  said  Cicely,  with  a  sigh,  "  I  feel  as 
old  as  the  world !  " 

"  That  may  be,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson  wisely,  "  an' 
you  still  not  be  much  older'n  a  robin.  Though  I  will 
say,"  she  added,  "  yo're  growin'  up  fast." 

"  I'm  learning,"  said  Cicely  humbly.  "  I've  learned  a 
great  deal  since  I've  been  with  you.  But  I  won't  believe 
that  about  other  people's  happiness ;  I  want  my 
own !  " 

"Well,  ther's  no  hurry,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson  tolerantly; 
"  growin'  takes  time,  same's  any  other  thing  that's  wuth 
doin'." 

"  Afternoon,  folks !  "  interrupted  Susan  Briggs,  pop- 
ping in  at  the  door  in  her  brisk  Jack-in-the-box  fashion. 
"  Still  sloppin'  with  dishes  ?  What  a  pair  o*  slow- 
coaches !  " 

"  We  bed  dinner  late,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  "  an'  we're 
jest  done  anyhow.  Why,  Susan,  yo're  all  dressed  up! 
Sure  enough,  this  is  the  fifth  of  April.  What  train  ye 
goin'  to  take  from  the  village?  " 

"  I  ain't  goin'  from  the  village,  thank  ye !  "  said  Susan. 
"  That's  what  I  come  about.  I'm  goin'  to  start  out  in 
style;  Richardson's  folks  are  goin'  over  to  Easton  in 
their  automobile,  an'  they're  goin'  to  take  me  along  that 
far;  an'  ther's  room  for  one  more,  an'  I  want  you  sh'd 
come,  Marthy.  So  go  git  ready." 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  think  o'  sech  a  thing !  "  answered  Mrs. 
Gibson.  "You  take  Cicely;  she  was  brought  up  in  an 
automobile,  an'  she  ain't  so  much  as  sot  her  foot  in  one 
sence  she  come  here." 

"  No  more've  you,"  said  the  uncompromising  Susan. 


284    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  She's  hed  her  share  o'  gallivanting  an'  you  ain't. 
Come,  stir  round.  I'm  a-waitin'." 

"  Oh,  do  go,  Mrs.  Gibson ! "  said  Cicely  eagerly. 
"  Isn't  it  in  Easton  that  they  have  that  new  library, — 
the  one  you  want  so  much  to  see?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  want  to  see  that  libr'y,"  admitted  Mrs. 
Gibson,  "  but  I've  got  all  this  week's  mendin'  to  do,  an' 
it's  two  days  behind  already, —  an'  to-morrow's  bakin'- 
day,  an'  'twun't  get  done  at  all." 

"  I'll  do  the  mending,"  said  Cicely.  "  I  like  to  mend. 
Do  please  go,  Mrs.  Gibson !  and  do  hurry !  " 

"  Yes,  for  the  land's  sake,  hurry !  "  commanded  Miss 
Briggs.  "  Yo're  slower'n  Lot's  wife.  Let  Cicely  do  the 
mendin', —  she's  got  brains  enough  now ;  she's  gittin'  to 
be  jest  like  folks, —  an'  put  yore  duds  on." 

"  Well,"  began  Mrs.  Gibson,  in  a  half-yielding  tone, 
"  maybe  —  'twun't  take  so  -eery  long  — "  and  at  that 
Cicely  blew  her  briskly  out  of  the  kitchen,  and  began 
to  load  her  with  out-door  attire  in  the  bedroom  beyond. 

When  the  hasty  good-byes  had  been  said,  and  the  tri- 
umphant Susan  had  borne  her  captive  away,  Cicely  sat 
down  by  the  work-table  in  the  "  settin'-room  "  with  the 
mending-basket.  "  I  told  her  a  fib,"  she  thought.  "  I 
hate  to  mend;  but  then  I  did  want  dreadfully  to  have 
her  go.  Bless  her  heart,  she  works  so  hard,  and  gets 
so  little  change!  It  will  do  her  a  world  of  good. — Now 
for  these  hateful  old  stockings."  She  fitted  on  her 
thimble  and  threaded  her  needle  with  a  capable  twist 
of  the  fingers.  "  If  only  one  were  '  working  for 
John  ' !  "  she  thought  wistfully.  "  I  think  even  darning 
would  be  happiness  then.  Well,  I've  thrown  happiness 


SEASON  OF  GROWING        285 

away;  I  mustn't  expect  it  again."  She  set  bravely  to 
work,  knitting  her  brows  over  the  painstaking  stitches. 

"  Well,  well !  "  said  the  farmer,  coming  in  presently 
with  the  mail.  "What's  all  this?  Where's  Marthy?" 

"  She's  gone  motoring  with  the  Richardsons,"  said 
Cicely.  "  Miss  Briggs  came  for  her,  and  between  us  we 
managed  to  persuade  her.  So  I'm  doing  the  mending; 
I  can  mend  splendidly  now." 

"  I  bet  ye  can !  "  said  the  farmer  proudly.  "  You  can 
do  'bout  anythin'  ye  want  to,  I  guess.  Well,  what  d'ye 
think  the  news  is  ?  " 

"  About — ?  "  Cicely  looked  up  quickly,  her  thoughts 
flying  instantly  to  their  inevitable  goal. 

The  farmer  nodded  with  a  humorous  twinkle. 
"That's  right, —  'bout  Cheltenham,"  he  said  shrewdly; 
he  was  well  aware  that  Cicely's  education  had  not  pro- 
gressed far  enough  to  make  her  eyes  brighten  over  the 
name  of  the  next  Presidential  candidate.  "  Johnny  jest 
sent  me  a  paper.  They're  goin'  to  hev  a  new  laboratory 
there;  an'  as  near's  I  can  make  out,  the  folks  that  are 
givin'  it  are  doin'  it  all  on  account  o'  Professor  Ford." 

"  The  de  Mullens !  "  exclaimed  Cicely.  "  They're 
giving  a  laboratory  to  Ro  —  to  Cheltenham  ?  " 

"  That's  them,"  said  the  farmer.  "  Cough-drop 
folks." 

"  But  I  thought  they  had  given  it  to  Yale !  "  she  said. 
"  I  thought  when  I  —  that  is,  I  heard  it  was  settled." 

"  Well,  seems's  if  they  changed  the'r  mind,"  said 
John  Gibson.  "  Says  here  they  give  it  on  condition  he 
gets  made  head  o'  the  Department  o'  Science ;  '  an'  this 
appointment/  it  says,  '  hes  ben  spoken  of  as  a  possi- 


286    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

bility  for  some  months,  and  is  now  supposed  to  be  a 
definite  fact.'  My,  wun't  Johnny  be  tickled?  But  I  do' 
know's  he'll  be  any  tickleder'n  I  am.  That  man's  pretty 
young  to  get  a  reward  like  this,  ain't  he?  P'raps  you'd 
like  to  look  at  the  paper;  I'll  leave  it  here."  He  laid 
the  open  sheet  on  the  table,  and  tramped  off  to  one  of 
his  many  tasks. 

Cicely  sat  staring  at  the  words  without  seeing  them. 
Roger  the  head  of  his  department!  Roger  soon  to  have 
his  laboratory !  —  the  things  that  she  had  so  much  wanted 
for  him,  and  had  seemed  to  lose  by  her  folly,  all  coming 
to  him  now  that  she  had  gone  out  of  his  life !  A  black 
despair  settled  upon  her.  Now  indeed  her  case  was 
hopeless.  He  would  never  need  her  again:  his  work, 
which  he  loved,  had  rewarded  his  devotion ;  and  she,  after 
wrecking  his  life  as  nearly  as  possible,  had  lost  her 
place  in  it  forever.  She  laid  her  head  upon  the  paper, 
and  closed  her  eyes. 

She  knew  now  for  the  first  time  that  she  had  still 
harboured  hope.  What  undreamed-of  horror  of  desola- 
tion was  this !  Nothing  remained  in  life,  nothing.  She 
hated  Roger's  success,  hated  the  people  who  had  helped 
him  to  it,  hated  his  zeal  which  had  made  it  possible.  The 
books,  the  apparatus  of  his  work,  and  the  old  coat  he 
worked  in, —  all  that  took  him  out  of  her  life,  and  lifted 
him  into  the  serene  impersonal  world  in  which  he  was 
happy, —  seemed  endowed  with  malevolent  personality  to 
mock  at  her.  "  I  wish  I  had  my  hands  on  them !  "  she 
said  aloud,  fiercely.  "  I'd  tear  them!  " 

And  then,  suddenly,  came  into  her  mind  the  picture 


SEASON  OF  GROWING       287 

of  Roger  in  the  old  coat,  bending  over  his  work,  absorbed, 
content;  and  with  it  came  a  rush  of  tender  tears.  "  My 
precious  Badger !  "  she  thought.  "  How  he  loves  it ! 
How  happy  he'll  be,  with  everything  that  he  wants  at 
his  hand !  He'll  work  from  morning  till  night,  and  never 
know  he's  tired.  O  darling  Badger,  take  it,  take  it! 
I'm  so  glad  there's  something  left  for  you  that  I  haven't 
spoiled!  And  I'm  glad  I'm  gone, —  yes,  I'm  glad, —  I'd 
rather  never  see  you  again  than  ruin  your  life.  O  Bad- 
ger dearest,  I  do  want  you  to  be  happy !  "  So  she  wept 
for  a  little  while,  and  was  somehow  comforted. 

The  big  clock  in  the  corner  struck  three,  and  Cicely  sat 
up,  recalled  to  her  surroundings.  "  I  must  hurry,"  she 
said  to  herself,  "  or  I  won't  be  done  when  Mrs.  Gibson 
gets  back,  and  then  she'll  never  go  away  again."  She 
set  to  work  at  the  stockings,  frowning  and  pursing  her 
mouth  over  the  difficulty  of  the  task.  "  I  wonder  who 
did  the  stockings  at  our  house  ?  "  she  thought.  "  Hitty, 
I  suppose.  Poor  Hitty, —  think  of  the  holes  there  must 
have  been  in  all  those  silk  ones  of  mine!  .  .  .  What  a 
good  soul  Hitty  was ;  and  I  never  appreciated  her,  never, 
—  except  her  conversation, —  I  will  say  I  always  did 
justice  to  that.  .  .  .  Miss  Briggs  is  something  like  her; 
and  she's  a  good  soul  too.  .  .  .  How  many  nice  people 
there  are,  if  you  stop  to  notice.  But  none  as  nice  as  dear 
Mrs.  Gibson, —  bless  her  dear  heart !  I  do  hope  she's 
having  a  good  time."  So,  with  busy  mind  and  fingers, 
she  passed  the  long  afternoon;  and  when  Mrs.  Gibson 
returned  at  half-past  five  o'clock  the  pile  of  mending  was 
done. 


288    THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Well,  dear !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  hurrying  in  out  of 
the  fresh  breeze  with  rosy  cheeks.  "  How  did  ye  get 
along?  " 

"  Splendidly !  "  said  Cicely,  kissing  her.  "  The  mend- 
ing's all  finished.  And  did  you  have  a  good  time  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  hed  the  best  time !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Gibson, 
her  eyes  shining  like  a  girl's.  "  My,  I  do'  know  when 
I've  hed  sech  a  time.  That  libr'y, —  well,  I  don't  s'pose 
heaven  itself  could  be  much  beautifuller !  —  marble  pil- 
lars, an'  vestibules  all  full  of  picters,  an'  books, —  rows 
an'  rows  of  'em,  right  up  to  the  ceilin', —  I  never  see 
anythin'  to  equal  it. —  An'  how  we  did  go!  Comin' 
home,  we  beat  half  the  automobiles  we  see, —  an'  there ! 
I  s'pose  it's  wicked,  but  I  couldn't  help  wantin'  to  beat 
'em  all.  The  only  drawback  was  that  you  wasn't  there. 
I  kep'  thinkin',  '  Oh  dear,  if  only  Cicely  was  in  this  auto- 
mobile, an'  I  was  home  darnin'  them  stockin's !  '  ' 

"Why,  dear  Mrs.  Gibson,"  said  Cicely,  "I  was  just 
enjoying  the  stockings,  because  I  knew  you  were  having 
a  good  time!  I  had  twice  as  much  pleasure  in  having 
you  go  as  I  would  have  had  in  going  myself." 

"  Cicely !  "  said  the  farmer's  wife,  stopping  in  her 
movement  across  the  room.  "  Do  you  know  what  you 
jest  said?  " 

"  Why,  that  I  was  glad  you  had  a  nice  afternoon !  " 
repeated  Cicely,  surprised. 

"  No, —  that  you  was  happy  in  somebody  else's  hap- 
piness !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson  triumphantly.  "  Jest  what 
you  said  this  noon-time  you  didn't  b'lieve.  Now  look  at 
me  and  tell  me  true, —  don't  you  b'lieve  ther's  better 


SEASON  OF  GROWING        289 

ways  o'  bein'  happy  besides  Levin'  jest  what  ye  want  for 
yerself  ?  " 

Cicely  stood  still  and  considered,  and  remembered  how 
glad  she  was  that  Roger  should  have  his  wish,  and  how 
it  had  warmed  her  heart  to  hear  of  her  friend's  pleasure: 
and  a  new  and  lovely  light  was  born  in  her  eyes,  and  lay 
trembling  along  the  line  of  her  mouth.  "  Oh  yes,  yes !  " 
she  said.  "Much,  much  better!" 

Mrs.  Gibson  smiled  at  her,  through  fond  tears. 
"  Cicely,  dear  heart,"  she  said,  "  now  yo're  a  woman." 


XV 

"  JOURNEYS    END " 

"  WELL  !  "  said  Susan  Briggs,  invading  the  quiet  kitchen 
like  a  shot  from  a  cannon,  "  here  I  am, —  gone  off,  stayed 
off,  an"  got  back  again,  all  in  one  week !  My  stars,  I  ben 
doin'  so  much  I  expected  to  find  ye  all  ten  years  older, 
an'  ye  ain't  changed  a  mite." 

"  Welcome  home,  Susan !  "  said  Martha  Gibson  heart- 
ily. "  Set  right  down,  an'  tell  us  all  about  it !  Did  ye 
hev  a  fine  time  ?  " 

"  Yes,  do  tell  us !  "  echoed  Cicely.  "  How  bright  and 
jolly  you  look!  It  does  one  good  to  have  a  peep  at 
you."  Now  that  she  had  received  her  new  vision,  she 
was  wonderfully  wide-eyed  for  vicarious  pleasure. 

"  Well,  sirs !  "  began  the  traveller,  with  great  gusto, 
"  I  jest  wish't  you'd  'a'  ben  along  to  see  the  sights  o' 
the  city!  I  ain't  ben  there  for  ten  years,  an'  I  tell  ye 
I  wouldn't  'a'  b'lieved  all  I  see  if  I  hedn't  'a'  hed  my 
own  eyes  with  me.  My  land,  them  buildin's  are  so  tall 
now  they  made  me  feel's  if  my  legs  wa'n't  no  longer'n 
a  caterpillar's;  why,  ther's  some  of  'em  'd  made  the  new 
Methodist  steeple  look  like  a  pancake,  they  would  that. 
An'  the  hats !  I  thought  that  one  you  come  here  in  was 
bad  enough,  Cicely ;  but  my  soul,  it's  civilized  beside  some 
I  see  there !  I  see  one  woman  that  looked  as  if  she 

290 


"JOURNEYS  END—"  291 

was  carryin'  round  a  ten-acre  truck-farm,  all  loaded  down 
with  greens  an'  garden-sass ;  an'  then  the  next  one  I  see 
looked  as  if  she'd  got  her  head  jammed  in  a  coal-buckit, 
an'  couldn't  git  it  out  without  a  boot-jack.  Land,  I  must 
say,  the  more  I  see  o'  city  women,  the  gladder  I  am  't  I 
live  in  the  country,  where  folks  'a'  got  some  sense!  " 

"  Go  on,  tell  us  more !  "  urged  Cicely,  her  eyes  dancing. 
"  Are  the  spring  coats  long  or  short?  And  what  are  the 
new  sleeves  like?  " 

"  An'  did  ye  get  to  any  lectures  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Gib- 
son hungrily.  "  An'  did  ye  see  the  new  Art  Museum?  " 

"  Yes,  I  went  to  two  lectures,  an'  I  see  the  museum  on 
purpose  to  tell  you  'bout  it,"  said  Miss  Briggs.  "  An'  I 
heard  some  news,  too, — 'bout  Cheltenham, —  that  I  ben 
savin'  for  ye." 

"Oh,  what  is  it?"  said  Cicely  quickly.  "About  the 
physical  laboratory  ?  " 

"  No,  'bout  Marthy's  Professor  Ford,  that  she's  so 
cracked  on,"  replied  Susan.  "  Sh'll  I  tell  it  now,  or  go 
on  'bout  the  sleeves  an'  the  museum?  " 

"  Oh,  tell  it,  tell  it !  "  said  Cicely,  uncontrollably  im- 
patient. "  Is  he  well  ?  " 

"  Why,  so  far's  I  know,"  said  Susan,  swelling  with  the 
importance  of  a  newsbearer,  "  but  what  d'ye  s'pose  ?  His 
wife's  up  'n'  left  him !  Yes,  sir, —  went  off  last  January 
with  another  feller,  sure's  yo're  born !  " 

This  information,  instead  of  creating  an  uproar,  was 
received  in  absolute  silence.  Cicely  clenched  her  hands, 
and  breathed  as  if  she  had  been  running,  but  kept  her 
lips  closed;  and  Mrs.  Gibson,  averting  her  eyes,  looked 
out  of  the  window  with  a  sad  and  troubled  face. 


292     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Well,  ye  don't  seem  much  stirred  up !  "  said  Miss 
Briggs,  aggrieved.  "  I  thought  ye'd  set  up  a  holler, 
Marthy.  What's  the  matter?  Ain't  heard  it  before, 
hev  ye?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  I  hev,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson  slowly. 
"  Johnny  wrote  it  to  me  quite  a  spell  ago.  I  —  She 
made  as  if  to  say  more,  then  changed  her  mind  and 
closed  her  lips  again. 

"Well,  I  never!"  said  Susan  indignantly.  "Of  all 
the  stingy-mouthed  folks!  What  ails  ye,  to  be  so  tight 
with  yer  news  ?  " 

"  Well,  first  place,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  "  I  wa'n't  sure 
but  it  might  be  a  mistake,  an'  I  didn't  want  to  be  the 
one  to  spread  it.  An'  then,  when  I  knowed  it  was  so, — 
why  —  well,  I  think  so  much  o'  Professor  Ford,  I 
couldn't  bring  myself  to  talk  to  folks  'bout  it.  It  seemed 
like  —  like  paintin'  the  town  fences  with  —  I  do'  know 
—  his  heart's  blood."  She  flushed  with  the  difficulty  of 
expressing  so  sensitive  a  feeling  before  so  matter-of-fact 
an  auditor.  Cicely  looked  at  her  with  eyes  of  dumb 
gratitude. 

"  My  senses !  "  exclaimed  Susan.  "  Yo're  softer 'n 
mush,  Marthy !  Other  folks  ain't  sech  'fraid-cats,  I  can 
tell  ye.  It's  ben  town  talk  for  months  in  Cheltenham, 
an'  even  in  the  city  ther's  lots  knows  all  about  it.  I 
s'pose  she  went  to  Reno,  don't  you?  They  say  she  was 
brought  up  s'ciety,  an'  I  hear  that's  what  all  them 
s'ciety  folks  do." 

"  How'd  you  hear  'bout  it?  "  asked  Mrs.  Gibson,  with 
some  hesitation. 

"  Why,  Jim  Milliard's  folks  told  me,"  said  Susan,  ex- 


"JOURNEYS  END—"  293 

pounding  the  tale  with  enthusiasm.  "  Their  cousin 
Jonas's  cousin  Hitty  Sparks  was  workin'  to  the  Fords'; 
an'  'twas  her  see  Mis'  Ford  an'  this  young  feller  elopin' 
away,  with  her  own  eyes.  Ellen  Hilliard,  she  says  Hitty 
'most  cried  herself  sick  over  it;  an'  she  ain't  one  to  cry 
neither,  Ellen  says;  but  it  seems  she  was  dreadful  took 
up  with  them  Fords.  Well,  she  stayed  on  quite  a  spell, 
keepin'  house  for  Professor  Ford:  but  presently  she  see 
what  a  scandal  it'd  be  likely  to  make,  her  livin'  alone 
like  that  with  a  single  man,  as  ye  might  say;  an'  so  she 
put  it  to  the  professor  that  she'd  give  him  a  month  to 
git  married  again,  or  if  not  she'd  hev  to  go.  So  the 
professor,  he  says,  s'he,  that  if  'twas  that  way  he  guessed 
they'd  hev  to  part,  becuz  he  hedn't  no  notion  o'  marryin' 
again ;  an'  so  Hitty  left  come  the  end  o'  Feb'uary.  She 
was  dreadful  sorry  to  go,  but  o'  course  a  respectable 
single  woman  hes  to  consider  the  looks  o'  things." 

"  An'  how  does  he  manage  now  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Gibson. 
"  Did  he  get  him  another  girl?  " 

"  Well  no,  it  seems  not,"  continued  Susan  fluently. 
"  Seems  they're  dreadful  hard  to  come  by  in  Chelten- 
ham ;  an'  besides,  he  was  bound  'n'  determined  to  sell  his 
house,  an'  didn't  want  to  make  no  permanent  arrange- 
ments,—  seems  queer,  don't  it,  when  he  bought  it  less'n  a 
year  ago?  —  he  must  be  kind  o'  wambly.  So  Hitty,  she 
got  him  a  day-woman  that  was  to  come  in  once  in  so 
often  an'  clean  an'  wash  up,  an'  then  he  was  to  git  his 
own  breakfast  an'  take  his  other  meals  out;  an'  Hitty, 
she  got  her  another  place,  with  a  steady,  respectable 
married  couple.  But  Goody  Gorham!  she  says  the  way 
that  poor  man  lives  is  somethin'  awful.  Some  days  the 


294     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

woman  comes,  an'  some  days  she  don't;  an'  if  she  does, 
ten  chances  to  one  she  leaves  things  dirtier'n  she  finds 
'em;  an'  if  she  don't,  land  knows  what  happens.  An' 
she  says  he  looks  so  thin,  an'  so  forlorn  — 

All  this  time  Cicely  had  sat  still  and  rigid,  turned  to 
stone  by  the  violent  conflict  for  self-mastery  going  on 
within  her,  nothing  but  her  great  eyes  alive  in  her  white 
face.  But  now  she  could  bear  no  more.  Gasping,  she 
rose  to  her  feet  and  began  to  stumble  across  the  room. 
"I  —  I  must  go  upstairs,"  she  said.  "  Please  excuse 
me  —  I  —  I  have  something  to  do."  With  unsteady  steps 
she  hurried  through  the  door  and  up  the  narrow  stairway 
to  her  little  chamber. 

"  I  can't  help  it, —  I  can't  help  it, —  I  must  go !  "  she 
told  herself.  "  I  must  go  if  he  hates  me  more  than  ever 
for  it.  So  thin  —  so  forlorn  — /  "  She  began  to  weep 
softly,  setting  about  her  hurried  preparations.  "  Oh,  my 
poor  boy!  my  poor,  precious  Badger!  I  must  go  and 
take  care  of  you,  I  must !  I  know  you  don't  want  me, 
dear, —  and  I  don't  wonder, —  but  oh,  I  can't  bear  this ! 
'  So  thin  —  so  forlorn  ' — "  The  tears  fell  fast  upon  the 
things  she  was  putting  into  her  travelling-bag,  and  she 
fumbled  for  the  fastenings  blindly. 

"  Can  I  come  in,  dear?  "  asked  Mrs.  Gibson's  voice 
at  the  door.  "I've  sent  Susan  away;  I  couldn't  wait 
any  longer." 

"  Yes,  come  in,"  said  Cicely,  with  a  quivering  voice. 
"Mrs.  Gibson,  I'm  going  —  going  —  on  a  journey." 
She  took  her  hat  from  its  shelf,  and,  with  a  quaint,  un- 
conscious obedience  to  habit,  put  it  on  in  front  of  the 
mirror  she  could  not  see. 


"JOURNEYS  END—"  295 

"  Yo're  goin' !  "  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  without  surprise. 
"  Then  God  speed  ye,  dear." 

"  Thank  you,"  answered  Cicely,  sobbing.  "  Mrs.  Gib- 
son,—  you've  been  so  very,  very  good  to  me, —  I  ought 
not  to  keep  it  from  you  —  any  longer  —  I  ought  to  tell 
you  — " 

"  Don't  trouble,  Cicely,"  said  the  farmer's  wife  quietly. 
"  I  expect  I  know." 

"You  know?"  exclaimed  Cicely,  her  eyes  widening 
behind  their  veil  of  tears.  "You  know  —  about  me? 
But  how  — ?  " 

"  I've  hed  my  s'picions  for  a  good  while,  dear,  hearin' 
you  talk  'bout  Cheltenham,"  answered  Mrs.  Gibson. 
"  An'  then  —  to-day  —  I  see  yore  face  when  she  said 
he  was  lonesome." 

Cicely  flew  to  the  embrace  of  the  waiting  arms,  lay- 
ing her  wet  cheek  against  the  cheek  of  her  friend.  "  Oh, 
you  do  know!"  she  cried.  "Oh,  I'm  so  glad!  Dear, 
dear  Mrs.  Gibson, —  you  love  him  too, —  you  understand. 
And  my  poor  Roger  —  my  poor  precious  husband, —  he's 
so  miserable,  Mrs.  Gibson !  I  have  to  go  and  help  him." 

"  Yes,  dearie,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  fondling  her  with  a 
sigh,  "  it's  right  ye  should  go.  But  —  oh,  little  daughter, 
how  I'll  miss  ye!  " 

"But  I'll  be  back  soon, —  very  soon!"  said  Cicely, 
stifling  a  sigh  in  her  turn.  "  I'm  only  going  to  see  how 
he  is." 

"  An'  do  you  s'pose  for  one  minute,"  inquired  Mrs. 
Gibson,  smiling  sadly,  "  that  when  ye've  once  seen  him 
ye'll  ever  think  again  'bout  us  ?  " 

"Oh,  I'm  not  going  to  see  him!"  exclaimed  Cicely. 


296     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Not  face  to  face,  I  mean.  I'll  just  slip  in  and  look  at 
the  house, —  and  get  some  one  to  take  proper  care  of 
him, —  and  then  stay  overnight  in  some  place  where  I  can 
—  just  —  catch  a  glimpse  of  him  as  he  goes  by.  And 
then  I'll  come  back.  I  ought  to  tell  you,"  she  added, 
flushing,  but  speaking  out  bravely,  "  that  I  nearly  spoiled 
my  husband's  life  before, —  and  there's  no  place  in  it 
for  me  now." 

"  No,  I  s'pose  not,"  said  Mrs.  Gibson,  with  gentle 
irony.  "  An'  you  run  away  from  him  with  another  man, 
I  s'pose,  same's  Susan  said." 

"  Oh,  no ! "  said  Cicely,  half-laughing  through  her 
tears.  "  That  was  Kitty's  imagination.  But  Roger 
doesn't  love  me  any  longer,  you  see, —  and  —  and  so  I 
can't  stay  with  him." 

"  I  see,"  said  the  farmer's  wife,  scoffing  tenderly. 
"  An'  you  don't  love  him  neither,  o'  course." 

"  Oh,  I  love  him,  I  love  him !  "  cried  Cicely  vehemently. 
"I  must  hurry  and  go  to  him!"  She  slipped  swiftly 
from  the  other's  embrace,  and,  wiping  the  drops  from 
her  lashes,  hurried  into  her  coat  and  caught  up  her 
bag. 

"  Yes,  go,  dear,"  said  the  farmer's  wife.  "  An'  God 
bless  ye.  God  bless  my  little  daughter."  They  clung 
together  again,  kissing;  and  this  time, —  as  inevitably  in 
a  parting  between  the  generation  that  looks  ahead  and 
the  generation  that  looks  back, —  it  was  the  older  woman's 
cheeks  that  were  wet. 

"  I'll  be  back  soon, —  very  soon,"  said  Cicely,  sigh- 
ing. 

"  Mebbe,"   said   the    farmer's    wife,   trying   to   smile. 


"JOURNEYS  END—"          297 

"  Good-bye,  little  daughter.     I'll  love  ye  always.     Good- 
bye." 

So  Cicely  parted  from  the  home  that  had  seen  her  new 
birth,  without  a  pang  save  in  the  thought  that  she  must 
soon  come  back  to  it  again.  But  this  time  it  was  not 
selfishness  that  blinded  her  spirit's  eyes, —  only  the  glory 
of  the  greater  love  that,  for  a  while,  hid  the  lesser. 


The  car  that  carried  Cicely  away  from  her  husband 
and  her  home  had  seemed  to  go  at  a  merciless  speed  that 
nothing  could  retard,  widening  the  distance  as  swiftly 
and  inexorably  as  if  it  had  been  the  grim  chariot  of 
Death  itself.  Now  the  car  that  bore  her  back  again 
over  the  same  road  had  leagued  itself  with  all  the  demons 
of  delay,  and  either  crawled  like  a  torpid  snail,  or 
stopped  altogether  for  interminable  periods  on  the  flim- 
siest possible  excuses.  But  it  was  a  radiant  spring 
morning,  and  all  the  world  was  smiling:  the  trees  were 
powdered  with  lightly-sprinkled  green,  the  dark  fields 
looked  rich  and  fecund;  and  high  in  the  branches  the 
birds  were  busy  at  their  dainty  errands,  chattering,  choos- 
ing, planning.  Cicely  thought  of  that  day  of  dreary 
winter  when  she  had  set  forth  through  the  muddy  snow 
with  winter  in  her  heart,  and  at  the  thought  became 
suddenly  aware  of  the  springtime  she  now  carried  within 
her.  What  a  glorious  day !  What  a  dear,  dear  errand ! 
What  slow  wheels,  and  what  a  hot- foot  heart!  What 
a  beautiful,  wonderful  world ! 

And  now  all  the  road  seemed  alive  with  lovers.  Boys 
and  girls  stood  trysting  under  trees ;  in  the  village  streets 


298     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

men  and  maidens  stopped  each  other  and  chatted  with 
smiling,  lighting  glances;  once  the  car  slowed  down  in 
front  of  an  isolated  house  while  the  motorman  waved  his 
cap  at  a  window,  and  Cicely,  peeping,  saw  a  hand  flut- 
tering a  secret  kiss  in  response;  and  once  an  old  couple, 
sitting  near  her  in  the  car, —  man  and  wife,  clearly, 
for  many  years, —  clasped  hands  and  smiled  mistily  at 
each  other,  as  they  passed  a  little  brook  with  willows  and 
a  mossy  seat  beside  it.  A  world  of  lovers !  Cicely  felt 
a  lump  of  poignant  sympathy  rise  in  her  throat,  and  the 
warm  tears  gather  to  her  eyes.  Even  if  love  was  over 
for  her,  it  was  good  that  love  still  lived  in  the  world. 

So  the  long  day  drew  on.  As  she  had  left  Chelten- 
ham in  the  winter  twilight  and  come  to  her  stopping- 
place  at  midnight  of  that  other  day,  so  now,  when  she 
had  set  forth  in  mid-morning,  she  came  to  her  goal  when 
the  April  shadows  were  growing  long.  She  left  the  car 
at  that  pine-pillared  spot  on  the  lonely  road  where  she 
had  boarded  it  before,  and,  wing-footed  with  eagerness, 
sped  at  a  breathless  pace  up  the  narrow  street,  and  home. 


At  the  sight  of  the  little  red  house,  however,  a  sharp 
pang  of  misgiving  smote  her.  It  looked  bleaker  and 
more  wintry  than  when  she  had  left  it ;  last  autumn's  dead 
leaves  lay  thick  upon  the  lawn;  the  brick  walk,  the 
flowerless  windows,  were  dirty  and  neglected;  and  when 
she  tried  the  door,  it  was  locked  fast.  Her  home  had  no 
welcome  for  her;  she  was  shut  out  of  Roger's  house  as 
out  of  his  life.  Dared  she  break  her  way  in  again,  even 


"JOURNEYS  END—"  299 

for  a  moment?  Her  heart  failed  within  her,  and  all 
at  once  she  was  ready  to  turn  and  fly  away  as  fast  as 
she  had  come. 

Yet  she  gathered  her  courage  and  determination  with 
a  steady  hand.  She  had  come  to  take  care  of  Roger, 
and  she  would  be  a  more  pitiable  helpmeet  than  ever  if 
she  ran  like  a  coward  before  she  had  begun.  She 
slipped  around  the  house  in  the  shelter  of  the  shrubbery, 
trying  the  windows  one  after  another;  and  presently,  at 
the  back,  she  came  upon  one  that  yielded  to  her  touch, 
and  raised  it  cautiously.  Screened  on  one  side  by  the 
thick,  new-leafed  lilac-bushes,  and  on  the  other  by  the 
projecting  porch  of  the  back  door,  she  scrambled  over 
the  sill  without  much  fear  of  observation,  and  found  her- 
self safe  inside.  It  came  into  her  mind,  as  she  drew  the 
sash  down  stealthily,  that  she  was  entering  her  husband's 
home  like  a  thief,  and  she  grew  hot  with  shame,  and  then 
again  cold  with  a  new  desolation. 

But  as  she  looked  around  her,  all  other  thoughts  were 
swallowed  up  in  the  shock  of  dismay  to  her  new  house- 
wifely perceptions.  Dirt  and  desolation  reigned  every- 
where. The  little  morning-room,  which  she  had  left  so 
crisp  and  dainty,  was  like  a  soiled  memory  of  a  past 
pleasure ;  the  curtains  hung  in  dingy  wisps,  the  furniture 
was  filmed  thick  with  dust,  and  on  the  floor  the  grey 
rolls  of  dust  that  Hitty  called  "  slut's-feathers  "  rolled 
hither  and  thither.  In  the  drawing-room, —  once  the 
prettiest  setting  for  a  pretty  trousseau  that  heart  could 
wish, —  the  sight  of  the  cobwebbed  lights,  decaying 
flowers,  and  piano  still  bedaubed  with  the  candle-grease 


300     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

of  the  forgotten  reception,  made  her  wring  her  hands. 
"  Oh,  oh !  "  she  cried.  "  How  can  they  let  him  live  like 
this  ?  How  can  they  ?  " 

In  the  hall  the  stairs  tempted  her,  and,  though  she 
feared  to  loiter,  she  stole  up  them  on  tiptoe.  The  un- 
occupied rooms,  like  the  ones  below,  were  thick  with 
dust.  Roger's  room  was  so  untidy  that  she  could  not 
trust  herself  to  go  into  it,  lest  all  her  resolves  of  haste 
be  overborne  in  spite  of  her.  As  she  passed  the  door  of 
her  own  chamber,  an  impulse  seized  her  to  see  if  that,  too 
(which  had  been  like  a  flower  for  fresh  sweetness),  had 
succumbed  to  the  prevailing  desolation:  she  put  out  her 
hand  to  the  knob,  and  tried  to  turn  it;  and  it  stood  fast 
in  her  hold, —  locked  now  from  the  outside,  as  once  she 
had  locked  it  from  within. 

This  discovery  plunged  a  knife  into  her  heart.  "  He 
wants  to  shut  even  the  memory  of  me  out  of  his  life !  " 
she  cried  to  herself.  "  He  can't  bear  to  see  even  the 
place  where  I  used  to  be.  Oh,  I  must  go,  I  must  hurry, 
— what  would  he  do  if  he  should  see  me?  Roger,  Roger, 
I  love  you  so,  and  you  hate  the  very  thought  of  me !  Oh, 
I'll  go  quickly,  dear,  and  not  make  you  suffer  any  more." 

Yet  she  lingered,  straying  from  room  to  room  like  an 
uneasy  ghost,  unable  to  drag  herself  away.  In  Roger's 
study,  on  the  desk,  a  handkerchief  grimy  with  dust  and 
a  clean  area  among  the  papers  showed  a  pathetic  mascu- 
line attempt  at  house-cleaning;  and  putting  the  handker- 
chief, grime  and  all,  into  her  pocket,  she  cried  softly 
over  the  uncared-for  homelessness  of  her  man.  Behind 
the  door  a  further  search  revealed  the  old  working-coat, 
shabbier  than  ever  now,  with  all  the  buttons  off,  pipe- 


"JOURNEYS  END—"          801 

ash  burns  down  the  front,  and  a  frayed  hole  through  the 
elbow ;  and  over  this  her  tears  flowed  faster  still.  "  My 
poor,  poor  boy !  "  she  sobbed.  "  Oh,  how  forlorn  you 
are !  —  I  must  go,  I  must  go  —  but  how  can  I,  and 
leave  him  like  this  ?  "  And  still  kept  weeping  from  room 
to  room,  and  wringing  her  hands,  and  saying  that  she 
would  go,  and  miserably  staying. 

At  sight  of  the  kitchen,  however, —  the  floor  littered 
with  coal  and  cinders,  the  stove  messy  with  burned  food, 
the  table  full  of  soiled  dishes, —  her  resolution  gave  out 
utterly.  "It's  no  use!"  she  cried.  "I  can't,  I  just 
can't!  I  must  take  the  risk.  O  Roger,  my  poor  boy,  to 
think  of  a  kitchen  like  this!  Oh,  I've  just  got  to  put 
it  right, —  I  just  can't  go  till  I  do." 

She  had  dashed  the  tears  from  her  eyes  and  flung  her 
hat  and  coat  on  a  chair  even  while  she  made  her  decision, 
and  stood,  in  the  pink  gingham  dress  she  had  never 
thought  of  changing  before  she  left  the  farm,  tucking  up 
her  sleeves  over  her  white  arms.  "  I'll  hurry  so  fast  he 
won't  have  time  to  get  back !  "  she  thought.  "  It's  early 
yet;  he  won't  come  for  a  long  time;  and  when  he  does, 
he'll  think  a  Brownie  has  been  here.  He  won't  know 
it  was  a  Pixie !  "  She  looked  around  the  kitchen  with 
eyes  that  had  begun  to  shine;  pouncing  by  instinct  on 
the  broom  in  its  corner  closet,  she  swept  the  floor 
deftly;  rubbed  the  stove  with  a  wet  cloth  that  sizzled 
on  its  hot,  dirty  surface;  and  then,  piling  the  dishes 
neatly,  washed  the  white  table  that  Hitty  used  to  keep 
so  spotless,  and  filled  the  dishpan  at  the  sink.  As  she 
did  this,  she  noticed  to  her  astonishment  that  she  was 
singing. 


302     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

"  Why,  I  haven't  sung  in  all  these  months ! "  she 
thought.  "I  wonder  what  makes  me  so  happy?" 
Then,  as  she  lifted  the  cups  and  plates  her  husband  had 
used  into  the  pan  of  shining  water,  a  light  broke  upon 
her.  "  It's  '  working  for  John ! '  '  she  told  herself. 
"  Mrs.  Gibson  said  that  was  the  best  thing  in  life,  and 
so  it  is.  I  never  knew  anything  so  sweet.  I  won't 
think  about  going;  I'll  make  believe  I'm  going  to  stay 
here  always, —  helping  my  man." 

So  she  worked,  singing.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life 
she  knew  the  full  happiness  of  loving  service,  and  it 
seemed  she  could  not  glory  enough  in  it.  The  twilight 
began  to  fall,  and  the  shadows  to  gather  in  the  corners, 
but  she  was  too  absorbed  to  remember  time.  And  in 
the  same  way  caution  left  her;  just  as  earnestly  as  she 
had  meant  to  hurry,  so  earnestly  had  she  meant  to  keep 
as  still  as  a  mouse;  but  somehow  her  happy  voice  got 
away  from  her,  and  mounted  into  realms  of  sheer  de- 
light where  she  could  not  control  it;  and  her  hands,  just 
as  happy,  rattled  recklessly  with  the  dishes  in  the  pan. 
And  so,  when  the  tired  step  came  slowly  up  the  walk, 
stopped  short  in  the  hall,  and  then  hurried  quickly  across 
the  dining-room,  she  did  not  hear  it, —  or  perhaps  heard 
it  without  ever  knowing,  and  took  it  for  the  sound  of 
her  own  heart-beats. 

"  The   King  of   Love  my  shepherd   is, — 
I'm  working  for  my  Roger, — 

she  was  singing  joyfully,  in  a  hymn  of  her  own  arrange- 
ment,—  when  the  door  opened,  and  Roger  himself  stood 


"JOURNEYS  END—"          303 

upon  the  threshold,  staring  at  her  through  the  gather- 
ing gloom. 

§ 

At  sight  of  the  real  flesh-and-blood  body  of  the  subj  ect 
of  her  dreams,  Cicely  fell  with  a  crash  from  her  rosy 
clouds,  and  stood  gasping  in  the  chill  air  of  reality. 
Here  was  Roger, —  Roger  whom  she  did  not  mean  to 
see,  Roger  who  hated  the  thought  of  her!  and  here  was 
she, —  who  had  wrecked  his  life,  and  promised  in  spirit 
to  stay  out  of  it  forever  henceforth, —  face  to  face  with 
him!  In  the  first  revulsion  from  the  shock  of  surprise, 
all  the  blood  in  her  body  surged  up  in  an  unreasoning 
flood  of  joy,  crying  out  to  him:  but  on  the  next  heart- 
beat, seeing  him  stand  there  so  stark  and  motionless,  it 
ebbed  away  again  into  cold  despair.  So  they  stood  for 
a  long  moment,  gazing  at  each  other,  frozen  into  si- 
lence. 

Then  Cicely,  summoning  her  resolution,  spoke  in  a 
low  voice.  "I  —  I  didn't  mean  you  to  see  me,  Roger," 
she  said. 

"  It  is  you,  Cicely !  "  exclaimed  Roger  hoarsely. 
"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  I'm  just  going,"  said  Cicely  hurriedly.  "  I  never 
meant  to  stay  until  you  came.  You'll  believe  that,  won't 
you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I'll  believe  that,"  said  Roger  bitterly.  "  I  don't 
understand  why  you  came  at  all." 

"  I'll  tell  you  why,"  said  Cicely,  with  sudden  courage. 
Between  her  and  Roger  evasions  were  wicked ;  there 
should  be  nothing  but  truth.  "  I  came  because  I  couldn't 


304     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

bear  it  any  longer  without  seeing  how  you  were.  And 
when  I  got  here  there  was  so  much  to  do  for  you,  Roger, 
I  just  couldn't —  I  just  couldn't  make  myself  go." 

Roger  gave  an  astounded,  inarticulate  exclamation. 
"  You  —  you  couldn't  go  —  because  there  was  so  much 
to  do  for  me!  "  he  muttered.  "  I'm  dreaming.  Let  me 
see  you,  Cicely."  He  reached  his  arm  out  sidewise, 
groping  for  the  electric  button  on  the  wall  beside  him, 
while  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  place  where  Cicely 
stood. 

"  Oh,  don't,  Roger !  "  cried  Cicely,  afraid  to  trust  her- 
self with  a  better  sight  of  him:  but  even  as  she  spoke, 
the  button  clicked,  and  the  room  leaped  into  full 
light. 

For  an  instant,  taken  by  surprise,  they  both  stood  off 
guard, —  Cicely,  in  all  the  homely  beauty  of  her  service, 
the  sleeves  of  her  little  gingham  frock  tucked  up  to  her 
elbows,  the  dish-towel  in  her  hands,  and  her  face,  made 
sweeter  and  graver  by  these  months  of  pain,  instinct 
with  longing;  and  Roger,  white,  haggard  and  worn,  with 
a  desperate  hunger  behind  the  amazement  in  his  eyes. 
Sheer  force  of  emotion  held  them  both  spellbound  while 
they  gazed.  Then  Cicely's  hand,  all  unconsciously, 
caught  at  her  labouring  heart, —  and  at  the  movement 
Roger  turned  his  face  away  sharply,  with  a  low  exclama- 
tion that  was  like  a  groan. 

"Cicely!"  he  said.  "If  you're  going,  go  quickly. 
I'm  only  a  man  —  I  can't  promise — "  He  shut  his 
teeth  on  the  sentence,  and  she  saw  his  strong  hands 
clench. 

"  But  —  but     Roger !  "     cried     Cicely,     stammering. 


"JOURNEYS  END—"          305 

"  You  —  you  don't  mean  —  you  can't  mean  —  you  —  you 
want  me,  Roger?  " 

"  Want  you ! "  cried  Roger  in  a  husky  whisper. 
"  Want  you  — !  " 

Cicely  clutched  the  table-edge  for  steadiness.  "  But 
it  can't  be  !  "  she  said.  "  All  these  months  —  all  these 
long,  long  months  —  you  never  tried  to  find  me  — 
never  made  a  sign — " 

"  How  could  I  ?  "  cried  Roger,  wheeling  Violently 
around.  "  God  in  heaven,  Cicely,  you  were  with  him ! 
I  wanted  you  to  be  happy:  and  if  I  couldn't  make  you 
happy  here,  then  the  least  I  could  do  was  to  leave  you  in 
peace.  But  to  hunt  for  you  —  to  see  you  with  another 
man  —  no,  that's  too  much  —  I  tell  you  I'm  human  — " 

"  With  another  man !  "  interrupted  Cicely,  staring. 
"  Do  you  mean  —  oh,  but  you  couldn't  mean  —  O 
Roger,  you  did  mean  —  with  the  boy !  Roger,  Roger  — 
you  could  think  that  —  you  could  believe  it  —  why,  were 
you  raving?  And  I  —  all  these  months  —  oh,  it's  a  joke, 
—  a  hideous,  horrible  joke — "  Self-control  crumpled 
down  within  her,  and  she  sank  into  a  chair  and  began 
to  laugh  hysterically. 

Roger  stared  in  his  turn,  all  the  colour  wiped  from  his 
face  even  to  the  white  lips.  "  Cicely ! "  he  panted. 
"  You  weren't  with  him  —  ?  you  never  went  with  him  — ? 
Then  why  —  why  have  we  been  apart  all  this  time  ?  " 

"  Because,"  said  Cicely  bitterly,  steadying  herself, 
"  you  knew  the  woman  —  the  woman  who  used  to  be  your 
wife  —  the  one  you  called  your  soul  —  so  well,  that  you 
believed  the  first  silly  falsehood  you  heard  about  her  — 
and  never  asked  anything  more.  And  that  —  that  was 


306     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

possible  in  marriage,  the  one  relation  that  ought  to  be  all 
truth !  We  who  were  husband  and  wife  — !  Oh,  what 
a  mockery  —  what  a  mockery !  " 

"  Cicely,"  said  Roger  hoarsely,  "  I  never  had  your 
truth.  I  never  knew  your  real  self, —  except  for  a  few 
glimpses  in  those  first  days,  and  the  sound  of  it  some- 
times in  your  voice.  You  went  away  from  here, —  just 
as  you  came, —  a  beautiful  stranger." 

Cicely  raised  her  head  to  look  at  him  fairly;  and  at 
the  sight  of  the  white,  suffering  face  and  big  clenched 
hands  the  rising  bitterness  in  her  was  swept  away.  How 
much  indeed  had  she  given  him  of  her  truth,  she  who  had 
only  lately  begun  to  know  her  true  self?  and  how  much 
had  she  known  of  the  truth  of  him,  when  she  had  believed 
all  this  time  that  he  did  not  love  her,  and  had  sub- 
mitted to  learn  of  him  from  strangers?  The  humility 
which  she  had  learned  so  newly  rushed  over  her  in  a 
flood:  and  yet  in  the  midst  of  it  she  felt  a  sudden,  great 
pride ;  so  much  of  truth  was  open  to  her  now ;  —  and  this 
man, —  this  man  of  the  plain,  beautiful,  tortured  face 
and  strong  desirable  arms, —  was  hers  out  of  all  the 
world ! 

"  Roger !  "  she  said.     "  Did  I  hear  you  say  —  you  — 
wanted  me  ?  " 

"  Oh  —  Cicely  — !  "  groaned  Roger. 

"  Then,"  she  said,  with  a  little  sobbing  laugh,  "  why 
—  why  don't  you  take  me, —  Badger  ?  " 

There  was  a  sudden  cry,  a  sudden  leap  across  the  little 

kitchen,  a  sudden  reaching  out  of  hungry  arms.     Then, 

—  weeping,  laughing,  clinging,  heart  on  heart  and  cheek 

against  wet  cheek, —  these  two  who  had  strayed  so  wide 


"JOURNEYS  END—"          307 

and  blundered  so  pitiably  were  born  again;  out  of  folly 
into  understanding;  out  of  earth  into  (it  may  be),  heaven. 


They  spoke  but  little,  and  brokenly. 

"  It's  a  dream,"  said  Roger,  his  big  arms  crushing 
her. 

"  Is  this  a  dream?  "  asked  Cicely,  lifting  warm  lips  to 
his. 

"  O  Pixie,  Pixie,  I've  dreamed  it  so  many  times  — 
and  always  waked  — " 

"  Badger,  my  Badger,  my  own  beloved,  you'll  never 
wake  again,  except  to  find  that  it's  all,  all  true !  " 

"  Tell  it  to  me  again,  then,  sweetheart, —  sweet,  sweet 
wife.  .  .  ." 

And  later  — 

"  Badger,  precious  heart,  if  you  loved  me  all  the  time, 
why  did  you  lock  the  door — ?  " 

"  Oh,  Pixie,  your  little  sweet-smelling  things  —  your 
empty  room !  Do  you  want  me  to  be  made  of  stone  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  dear  love, —  not  for  me,  not  for  me !  " 


The  dishes  shifted,  clinking,  in  the  pan:  and  all  at 
once  Roger  and  Cicely  were  back  again  in  the  actual 
world, —  the  good,  homely,  beautiful,  laughing,  crying, 
workaday  world.  They  both  started,  and  Cicely  slid 
from  Roger's  embrace. 

"  My  dishes !  "  she  exclaimed  in  consternation. 

"  Dishes !  "  said   Roger.     "  Who's  been  teaching  you 


308     THE  GILDED  CHRYSALIS 

to  put  your  precious  hands  in  dishwater?  Leave  them 
alone !  " 

"  Not  I,"  said  Cicely.  "  That's  gone  on  long  enough. 
I'm  going  to  wash  them." 

Roger  caught  her  hands.  "  Look  here/'  he  said  de- 
terminedly, "  if  you  think  I'm  going  to  stand  by  and 
watch  my  wife  work,  you're  mistaken.  You're  not  to 
touch  them:  if  somebody  must,  I  will." 

"  Roger,"  said  Cicely,  looking  at  him  wistfully,  "  do 
you  want  to  turn  me  back  again  into  a  wax  doll,  when 
I'm  just  learning  the  happiness  of  being  a  woman?  " 

Roger  looked  startled.  "  I  never  thought  of  that !  " 
he  said,  gazing  at  the  new  grave  sweetness  of  her  face. 
"Perhaps  you're  right.  Only  —  dishes!" 

"  The  dishes  are  just  an  emblem,"  said  Cicely,  re- 
leasing her  hands,  and  turning  on  the  hot  water.  "  You 
see,  I  thought  that  life  was  an  unlimited  monarchy,  with 
me  on  the  throne  and  you  on  the  footstool.  But  now  I 
find  it's  a  partnership,  with  me  in  one  chair  and  you 
in  the  other.  And  that's  enough  to  glorify  even  the 
dishes !  " 

"  Cicely,"  declared  Roger,  with  conviction,  "  you're  an 
Angel.  A  Heavenly  Angel." 

Cicely  looked  up  at  him  sidewise  with  her  wise,  merry 
smile. 

"  Thank  heaven  you're  mistaken !  "  she  said.  "  Come, 
Roger,  here's  your  towel." 


THE    END 


— ... 

• 


:' 


A     000  131  838 


